


Inktober 2019

by baby_cheezit



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Angst, Inktober 2019, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-15 04:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 36,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_cheezit/pseuds/baby_cheezit
Summary: 31 days. 31 different prompts.(1) Jongtae (2) Taekey (3) Minkey, Jongtae, both hinted (4) Jongtae (5) Minkey, hinted Ontae (6) Jongkey (7) Ontae (8) Minkey (9) Onhyun (10) Taekey (11) OT5 (12) Jongtae (13) Minkey (14) Ontae (15) Jongtae (16) Taekey (17) Minkey, past 2min (18) Taekey (19) Jongtae (20) Onhyun (21) Jongtaekey (22) Jongtae (23) Taekey (24) Minkey (25) 2min (26) Taekey (27) Taekey (28) Minkey, hinted but obvious Jongtae (29) Jongtae (30) hinted Jongtae (31) Minkey, hinted Jongtae





	1. Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun's jealous of the metal on Taemin's fingers.

“Good morning.”

Jonghyun hummed, looking up from his cereal and smiling, pouting when Taemin didn’t spare him a second glance. Jonghyun spooned another pile of cereal into his mouth, slurping the milk before dropping his spoon into the ball, metal clanging off ceramic. He focused his gaze on Taemin as the younger man walked around the kitchen island, headed straight for the fridge. Whilst the other had his back to him, Jonghyun let his eyes wander over Taemin’s firm back. Taemin wore tight fitted pyjama bottoms, horizontal pink and white stripes against cotton, accompanied by a tight grey shirt, slightly cropped so as he reached around the fridge Jonghyun’s eyes caught glimpses of pale skin.

“Yah, Jonghyun, you drank my juice.”

Jonghyun smiled, resting his chin on his hand, the sleeve of his loose fitted grey jumper wrinkling.

“Behind the butter, babe.”

Taemin hummed. “Whatever,” he muttered, taking out his juice and closing the fridge.

“I don’t even like cranberries.”

Taemin shrugged, walking to the island and leaning on the counter as he unscrewed the cap.

Jonghyun’s eyes dropped to Taemin’s hands, metal rings still littering his fingers. “You ever take them off?”

Taemin smiled. “I didn’t have time to think about it last night, and I do take them off, when I shower.” Taemin took a sip of his juice, setting the bottle down and making a show of taking off each ring.

“Seven. Too many and I’ve seen you wear more someday. You’re weighed down, hmm?”

“I like them. Makes me feel happy.”

Jonghyun chuckled mid spoonful, gesturing to the rings. “You need new ones, expensive ones, or your fingers will turn green.”

“Shrek’s my favourite movie.”

“Idiot, it’s not.”

Taemin hummed, the final ring clinking on the granite countertop. “All gone.”

“Wear less.”

“Why?”

“I’m jealous.”

“Of metal? Jonghyunie, they’re metal objects,” Taemin cooed, picking up his bottle and taking a few gulps, breathless as he set the bottle back down and screwed the lid back on. He walked around the island, behind Jonghyun as he wrapped his arms around Jonghyun’s collarbone, Jonghyun leaning into the touch as he swallowed the last remnants of cereal from his bowl.

“Wear one,” Jonghyun murmured, setting the spoon in the bowl and pushing them away from him as he took Taemin’s left hand in his and kissed the only ring left on the finger next to his smallest. “My favourite one.”

“My favourite too. The prettiest one.”

“For the price, it better be,” Jonghyun complained, pulling Taemin’s hand away from his lips and squeezing softly. “Maybe I’ll let you wear two when we get married.”

“Buy me more pretty rings and I’ll wear whatever want me to.” Taemin leaned in, gently kissing Jonghyun’s ear. “Only them, if you want.”

“Now that, I won’t be jealous of.”


	2. Mindless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends are hard to find. Mindless slaves? Much easier.

“It’s so boring, being the Prince of this kingdom,” Kibum complained, eyes focused on the houses on the outskirts of the castle. He sighed, gently pushing against the stone balcony. “When is your father going to die so I can be King?” Kibum tutted, glancing back. “I could always poison him, hmm? Help him along the way. Although, that would rouse too many questions, and then everything I’ve done for me, no, for us, all that will be in vain, won’t it?” Kibum gently smiled. “Taemin, tell me to be patient.”

“Be patient.”

Kibum’s smile dropped and he turned around, lower back pressed against the stone of the balcony. “With feeling, Taemin.”

Taemin cleared his throat. “Kibum, patience.”

“Patience, patience, patience,” Kibum mocked, walking to Taemin, the latter stood at the entrance of the bedroom. Kibum stopped in front of Taemin, pulling on Taemin’s tailored suit jacket and then fastening the gold studs. Once fastened he set a hand on Taemin’s shoulder, squeezing the padding under the navy cotton, before reaching with his other hand and using the tips of his fingers to gently brush Taemin’s bangs into a messier approach.

“When you’re King, are you going to ask me for my hand in marriage in front of everyone? You can do that if I dress like a girl, people will think you fell in love and your father told you to hide her away? That's a good plan, isn't it?"

Taemin nodded, faded eyes shining. Kibum dropped his hand to Taemin’s other shoulder, leaning in and pressing his forehead to the younger boys.

“I wonder what it’d be like, if we were real friends, if I didn’t have to control you like this. We’d be good friends, wouldn’t we?” Kibum hummed, lips quivering. He breathed out slowly, controlling his emotions. “We’d be good friends, Taemin, I can feel it. From the first moment I saw you, I felt a connection. I-I don't want to do this, believe me Taemin, but I want this. I need this. I deserve this.” Kibum forced himself to smile, lifting his hands and pressing his index fingers to either side of Taemin’s lips, pushing them up to a smile. “Fake smiles. Both of us.” He dropped his hands to gently grasp Taemin’s, the boy’s lips paused into a smile.

“Lee Taemin, thank you for letting me use your mind. When you become King, when I become King, I’ll make your death as painless as possible, I promise.”

Taemin blinked, a few tears falling. “Thank you, Kibum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this piece actually. All mysterious. I kind of want to write more using this piece, buuuuut I don't wanna ruin it so I'll leave it up to your imagination as to what happened next uwu


	3. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum has a crush and Taemin's roped into being bait.

“This is bullshit,” Taemin complained, rolling his eyes when Kibum shot him a glare.

“My love life isn’t bullshit, Taemin.”

“It is when you have to use me as bait for your crush.”

“You have class with him.” Kibum glanced at the house at the end of the path, walls towering, suddenly morphing into a threatening castle instead of just the house his crush live in. “So, how do we play this out?”

“I give him my notes and then we leave.”

“Should I say I need to use the bathroom? No, you ask, then we can talk for a few minutes. Well, not minutes, don’t’ be creepy and wait too long, like a few seconds, you just need to wash your hands.”

Taemin deflated. “Key, seriously?”

Kibum pouted, eyes focused on the white, pebble-dashed house. “Taemin, please?”

“I suppose me wearing pyjamas is so he thinks I’m chaotic and therefore doesn’t fall for me,” Taemin mumbled, opening the gate, wincing as he squeaked. “Ah, I hate him already. Fix your gate.”

Kibum laughed as he followed Taemin, closing the gate behind them. “The reason you’re in pyjamas is because you refused to change even though I warned you I had a plan involving Minho.”

“Liar.”

Kibum rolled his eyes, standing beside Taemin when they got to the door. He eyes his own clothes, black skinny jeans with a few rips and a long sleeved, neon green shirt with a white shirt on top, decorated with a few words in black. He then looked at Taemin, the other in grey pyjama bottoms and a black hoodie, probably the neon pink shirt underneath, the one Kibum had jokingly bought him a few months ago that turned into the shirt Taemin refused to part with. Kibum found it horrendously cute until Taemin told him the reason he always wore it was because it was his sex shirt. He also had a black folder in his hand, but that was the bait.

“Knock,” Taemin said, interrupting the others thoughts.

“Okay,” Kibum mumbled, lifting a shaking hand and knocking gently.

Taemin grabbed his hand, pulling down and squeezing tightly. “Since Onew’s not here, I’m speaking for both of us when I say we’ll cut him if he even thinks of making fun of you… or me for wearing pyjamas.”

Kibum smiled, nudging Taemin gently when the other let go of his hand.

After a few seconds of waiting, Kibum straightened up at the sound and then then the handle was pushed down and the door was opened, revealing, in all his glory, Choi Minho, shirtless. Kibum opened his mouth, eyes wide as he tried with everything inside him to keep his gaze from circling golden abs.

“Notes,” Taemin said, handing over his folder. “We need to go over them and then do questions three and five on page 32.”

“I thought I could get away with it,” Minho complained. “You never bring me homework.” Minho took the folder and then looked at Kibum, brows furrowing and body becoming tense. “You’re, um, Taemin’s friend?”

“And Onew,” Taemin added. “Whilst you two talk, can I use your bathroom? I gotta wash my hands.”

Minho nodded. “Come in, both of you,” he said pushing the door and taking a step inside to give the other two space.

“No, I can-”

Taemin grabbed Kibum’s wrist, pulling him inside. “I’ll be quick,” he said, more so for Kibum. He glanced at Kibum, smirking when the other looked at him, fear written across his face. Taemin waved to his friend as he headed up the stairs.

“First door on the left!” Minho shouted, Taemin humming, not caring if Minho heard him or not.

Taemin followed Minho’s directions and he went into the bathroom. Taemin stood in front of the mirror, turning the cold water tap on and wetting his hands, turning it off, shaking his hands, beads of water hitting porcelain, before hr brushing wet fingers through his dry hair, styling it messier. He scrunched his nose as he wiped his hands on his pants, ignoring the wet marks staining his pants. He dropped his gaze to the sink, eyeing the small stains of orange along the sink. So, Minho wears foundation? Taemin knew his beauty couldn’t have been completely natural.

“Tae-Taemin!”

Taemin jumped, grabbing the first object he saw, a toothbrush, and spinning, threatening the person with the plastic. In the grand scheme of things, a toothbrush, not the most threatening of items, plus, this wasn’t even Taemin’s house to threaten in, but his acted before he could think.

The man in front of him put his hands up. “Sorry, I just… Taemin.”

“Who are you?”

“I should be asking you. You’re in my friend’s house and you’re the one trying to maul me with a toothbrush.”

“You snuck up on me,” Taemin muttered.

“Close the door to the bathroom then, maybe.”

“I was only washing my hands, asshole.”

The stranger dropped his hands. “Minho didn’t tell me he was inviting you of all people to his house! Why the hell would he invite you of all people without telling me first.”

“You seem like a kind person, totally not an angry fuck boy.”

Taemin frowned, turning and setting the toothbrush back in the holder. He shook his head, walking out of the bathroom, the other moving out of the way, grabbing Taemin’s hand before he could get far.

“Wait, ask me for my name.”

Taemin rolled his eyes, stopping and looking down slightly at the shorter male when the other let go of his hand. “I’ll bite. What’s your name?”

“Jonghyun. I… why are you here?”

“I had to drop off notes for Minho. Key’s downstairs.”

Jonghyun seemed to deflate slightly. “Ah, Key, or Kibum, whatever, tell your boyfriend I said hi?”

Taemin nearly choked, but he did laugh, pressing a hand to his mouth as he fell forward slightly, giggles escaping his lips. “Boyfriend!” Taemin exclaimed, straightening up and shaking his head, eyes watering. “Boyfriend?” Taemin coughed, trying to stop laughing as Jonghyun stared at him in confusion. “Boyfriend! Key is not my boyfriend! That’s gross. No way. Definitely not. He’s my best friend, that’s all,” Taemin spluttered, wiping his eyes as the laughing died down.

“But you-”

“You’re one of the assholes that’s homophobic, always making fun of our friendship,” Taemin concluded. “Great, Key’s crush is probably homophobic too.”

“Mi-Minho?” Jonghyun stuttered, eyes widening.

“Who else?”

“Minho likes Key.”

Taemin tensed. “I don’t believe you.”

“We thought you and Key were together. We thought we didn’t have a chance.”

Taemin thought for a moment, expression softening. “We?”

Jonghyun shook his head, lifting his hands and shaking them. “No, I-I-I-I… well we, I mean…”

Taemin grinned, eyeing Jonghyun carefully. A firm body. Messy hair. A pretty face. How had Taemin not seen someone like Jonghyun before?

“You like me?”

Jonghyun brushed his hands on his sweatpants, pulling his shirt down. Nervous tendencies. Adorable.

“… From a distance.” Jonghyun’s eyes wandered over Taemin’s body. “Your pyjamas are cute.”

Taemin’s grin intensified. “I think we have much to discuss.”

“About us?”

“Us? No. Minho and Key. Stranger danger. You and I are going to play matchmakers.”

“And then us?” Jonghyun asked, smiling when Taemin diverted his gaze. “Hmm? What do you think? Are you embarrassed now?”

“Unlike Key, I’m not afraid of people knowing who I want. Hmm, I think I should play hard to get.” Taemin reached out, squeezing Jonghyun’s bicep. “But just so you know, I have a particular taste. Good luck.”


	4. Freeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans aren't meant to survive out in the cold. If only Jonghyun was human too. Then he wouldn't be so lonely.

“You’re still so pretty,” Jonghyun mused, dragging his thumb over Taemin’s blue lips. Taemin smiled, teeth chattering and breath shaking as he exhaled slowly. “Let me change you, Taemin. You’ll be okay, you’ll make it, I’ll look after you. Even if you don’t want to hunt, I’d bring you food, help you drink.”

Taemin closed his eyes, the heat of the fire beside them doing nothing to warm his skin, the icy bite of wind cutting through his skin even though they were so far away from the entrance of the cave. He listened to the rain outside pelting against stone, thunder roaring in the sky above.

“You said… you said,” he spoke through gritted teeth, body tense and sore from his constant shaking.

“I know what I said, Taemin. When humans are changed, they aren’t like me, there’s only the smallest of chances they won’t go manic, but… if you go manic and I can’t get you back I wouldn’t let you live a life of pain.”

“Put me down, hmm?” Taemin asked, coughing gently, face grimacing as pain shot down his spine.

“I would.”

“You’d tie-tie… tie me up and look af-after me. You wouldn’t put me down.”

Jonghyun leaned in, kissing Taemin’s forehead gently. “I promised I’d look after you for all my immortal life. We were meant to be together forever.” Jonghyun leaned back, frowning; swallowing the lump in his throat. “You said that on your birthday, you’d take the potion, you’d drink it so you could stay human forever.”

“Not a-a-a lie.”

“I know just… it’s not different. What if you become a vampire like me? I know you never wanted to, but-but we’d be together?” Jonghyun cradled Taemin tighter against his chest. “You won’t make it to sunrise, Taemin, let me change you.”

Taemin blinked slowly, licking cold lips. He could feel his heart beating slower, he knew Jonghyun could hear it getting slower, they both knew he was going very soon. Humans weren’t built to live out in the cold for this long.

“Is it my fault?”

Taemin swallowed, shaking his head. “Never thi-think that.”

“If you had stayed with your parents, in the village, you’d be safe, or if you had lied when they’d confronted you, if you’d lied about sleeping with-with a witch.”

“Kind of… I told them you were not a-a-a witch.”

“You made it worse. They would have hung you in the morning had I not saved you, saved my damsel.” Jonghyun smiled, brushing his fingers through Taemin’s damp hair. “The look on the Priests face, Taemin. He grabbed his cross and threw it at me. I caught it and threw it back.”

Taemin laughed gently. “I-I know. You like your story.”

“It’s my favourite story. The only funny story I know when it comes to religion.”

Jonghyun breathed in deeply, relishing in Taemin’s scent, the smell fading, leaving traces of honey mixed in with death. “The… smell.”

“Fading?”

“Yes, you’re fading, just… just let me bite you, Taemin, let me save you.”

“I love you,” Taemin whispered instead of answering, breathing shallow, eyes slipping shut, body tired of trembling. Jonghyun took one of Taemin’s hands, squeezing it as though his naturally cold body would help Taemin’s icy skin.

“I-I love you too,” Jonghyun murmured, blinking back the mist of tears in his eyes. He leaned in, kissing Taemin’s cold lips, pulling back an inch and opening his eyes, his lips trembling when the warm puffs of air against his face evened out until suddenly they were cut off and the dominant sound of Taemin’s heart beating was no more so all he could hear was the rain slapping against the stone outside and the fire crackling beside his cold and Taemin’s lifeless body.


	5. Build

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a more so abstract piece about minkey and a tiny tiny tiny ontae building a relationship.

Jonghyun had dragged them out of the house to stalk Taemin’s date with a guy, Onew, Minho faintly remembered. So far, the two had spent an hour watching the bunnies down at the pet shop, in complete silence and Jonghyun was far from impressed, which meant it was operation make two cute guys fall in love from a distance.

“You should have taught Taemin how to start conversations,” Jonghyun whined.

Kibum rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone think I’m his mother?”

“Because you act like a girl.”

Kibum shot a glare at Minho, the latter shrugging.

“Just saying that maybe if you didn’t act so motherly, always petting his hair, people would think you’re his father instead of his mother.”

“This is why I hate straight people.”

“I’m not straight?”

“You look straight.”

“Heterophobic.”

“I think we already concluded I was heterophobic.”

Jonghyun patted the table. “Guys, concentrate, stop flirting.” Jonghyun went to sip his drink, sighing softly when he tasted only water from the ice melting in his cup. “Ah, I’m getting another drink and then we go.”

“Fine by me,” Minho said, already shoving the phone he’d placed on the table into his pocket.

“Get me another drink too, Jonghyun.”

“No plastic straws, for the vsco girl,” Minho replied.

Kibum elbowed Minho. “We’ll wait outside, keep track of the operation.”

“Subject,” Minho said, standing, lips twitching into a smile when Kibum groaned.

Jonghyun laughed, grabbing his navy blue rucksack and heading towards the counter. Once they were both stood, Kibum and Minho walked out of the restaurant, heading to an empty wooden bench opposite. When they sat down, Minho rested an arm on the back of the bench, Kibum shoving him away, scowling.

“What? We’re boyfriends. I’m being affectionate.”

“You’re doing it to piss me off.” Kibum smirked, pushing Minho when the other shuffled closer. “Ah, I swear, I’m one step away from going crazy.”

“With love.”

“With hate.”

“Love hate relationship. We’re such a cliché.”

“A cute one.”

“Power couple.”

“Do you think Taemin and Onew are going to work?”

“It looks like an awkward silence, but they could be having a blast.”

“You think we’re going to work?”

Minho glanced at Kibum, the others expression hard, eyes focused on Jonghyun ordering at the counter inside the shop. Minho sighed, pulling his arm from around the bench and taking Kibum’s hand in his instead.

“I know we argue, but that’s fun. The minute it gets serious, we don’t act like asses, do we?”

“I know we sort out our problems but… do you think we’ll work forever.”

“For now,” Minho said, squeezing Kibum’s hand. “For now, I love you and you love me. The future doesn’t matter right now. We’re young. Anything could happen. We could get hit by a bus between now and leaving the shopping centre.”

“That’s such a cliché line, you know.”

“Well, we’re a cute cliché,” Minho said, shrugging.

Kibum hummed, his expression softening as he leaned into Minho slightly, his curly hair tickling Minho’s chin.

“For now, I’m happy.”

Minho grinned, looking at Jonghyun waiting for the drinks. “Then for now, we don’t have worry.”


	6. Husky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun finds a husky and Kibum is torn.

“We’re not keeping it.”

Jonghyun pouted, wrapping his arms tighter around the white and grey husky dog obediently sat between his legs, curiously looking at Kibum with wide green eyes. The dog was adorable, but that wasn’t Kibum’s concern.

“I found him wandering alone. I felt sorry for him.”

Kibum shook his head, eyes going to the pink faux leather collar around the dog’s neck.

Jonghyun must have caught him looking because after a few seconds he mumbled, “his name’s Lucas.”

“Don’t say it out loud! You’ll get attached.”

“I already am. We gotta look after him whilst we search for his owners at least.

“I doubt they’ve gone far. You run by the dog park so you can watch all the cuties running around so they’re probably in there somewhere.” Kibum gasped, bending down slightly and smacking the back of Jonghyun’s head, blonde hair flying against the impact. “You stole a husky, didn’t you?”

“Not steal, Kibum!” Jonghyun yelled, setting a hand on the back of his head and rubbing gently for a few seconds, pout formed on his lips and brows furrowed as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“You run by the dog park and you always tell me about the dogs that catch your eye, I bet you’ve been eying this one for weeks, creep.”

Jonghyun pouted, tilting his head to the side so he could rest his cheek atop of the dog’s head, ears brushing against his face as the husky’s tail started wagging from excitement of the loud men.

“It’s a cute dog,” Jonghyun murmured, swaying the dog slightly.

“I agree it’s a cute dog, but it’s not our cute dog.”

Jonghyun sighed, letting go of the dog, the husky standing and sniffing the hardwood floor, curling Kibum before moving into the living room. Jonghyun brushed the dog hairs off his fitted navy shirt and black running shorts as he stood, stray hairs already dusting the room. Kibum tutted, brushing his own navy pyjama bottoms and matching top in frustration.

“Ah, shit, there’s hair everywhere, Jonghyun! You’re cleaning this house from top to bottom when you this dog’s gone!”

“I didn’t steal the dog, ‘bumie, just… I saw it wandering and none of the owners were shouting so I couldn’t’ leave it, that would have been awful, it could have been hit by a car and my conscience can’t handle the thought of that. I’d still be thinking about the dog ten years from now!”

Kibum glanced at Jonghyun’s face, the shorter male’s expression getting much more depressing to look at with every passing second.

“Jonghyun,” Kibum slowly started. “I’m allergic to most animal fur. It’ll be okay for a day or so, but in the end, you’ll have to choose.” Kibum reached out, pressing a finger to Jonghyun’s lips when the other opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t you dare choose a dog over your own boyfriend, asshole.”

Jonghyun smiled against Kibum’s finger, Kibum rolling his eyes and dropping his hand, turning to look at the dog that was now on the sofa, tail furiously wagging as he nosed the array of lilac cushions on the black sofa. Kibum’s lips tugged into a gentle smile and he spared another glance at Jonghyun, deflating slightly when he saw Jonghyun also looking at the husky, expression hard.

“Jonghyun,” Kibum gently started. “We look at the collar and call its owners.”

“What if they’re trashy owners?”

“I’ll steal the dog and give it to Jinki. His cats could do with some friends, but we can’t keep it either way.”

Jonghyun nodded, looking at Kibum and forcing a smile. “I know, I just think a pet would be cool. We don’t want kids, but a pet would make us dorky dads, you know, responsible parents.”

Kibum walked closer to Jonghyun, lifting his hands and pinching Jonghyun’s cheeks before leaning in and kissing the other softly. When he pulled back, he licked his lips, fingers falling to Jonghyun’s neck, thumbs brushing the older boy’s jawline.

“No dogs, but how about we start small and buy a fish?”

“Finding nemo fish?”

Kibum grinned. “Finding nemo fish as long as we can call it Dory.”


	7. Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forest is off limits, maybe for the wrong reasons.

Taemin had been told more than a million times not to go in the forest, not to be distracted by the pretty path of tulips, always in bloom, even when the harsh winters turned the gravel into ice and the plants in the village to pale remnants of flowers all scratched and withered. He was told not to pick at the bushed dusting the outskirts of the forest, not to listen when he hears faint singing, do not go near the forest. Simple enough? No.

Taemin was a curious boy, so, at the age of six he made a run for the forest, tripping and scraping his face on gravel. His father picked him up and carried the crying boy back to the house, not letting him eat for a week. Taemin had gone months before, during harsh winters, so that didn’t beat the fighting spirit out of him, the gravel, maybe for a few years. At ten, he made a gamble of running to the forest, eventually stopping because he saw his father collapsing at the corner of his eye. He ran to him instead, laughing and yelling about how his father couldn’t catch him. That’s when his mother appeared, falling to her knees, long white dress now stained with mud, fingers pulling on short brunette hair as she screamed so loud Taemin was sure the village two miles over could hear.

They buried him the next day and Taemin was too busy looking after his grieving mother to find time for the forest. Though the tears stained her face and her smile was lost, Taemin thought she was still the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Around the age of thirteen, he snuck out in the middle of the night, furious, because his mother had spent the day with another man, a new man, someone Taemin wasn’t willing to let replace his father. Guards surrounding the forest had brought him home. This time he was spanked a few times, but his mother was too tired, too upset at the thought of losing someone else in her lifetime, so she ended up crying, begging him to stop if she stopped seeing the man, he agreed, his immature mind selfish in his own to care about his mother’s heart. He promised he’d stay away until the day she died.

At the age of fifteen, they moved away from the from the forest, their entire village had, in the early hours of a winter morning. Taemin faintly remembers gentle humming and an iridescent glow of green along the shadows of the trees, the tulips a deep hue of blues and pinks. His mother hadn’t let him look longer than a mere moment before putting her cold hands over his eyes, long nails scratching at his skin as she hurried him away.

They’d rode on miles, the village split up so it was only him and his mother left.

Rejection faced them with every mile, villages uncaring, Kingdoms full of men and women rich with fat, laughing at their dirty faces and blistered hands and feet from barely paid freelance work they were lucky to find.

Taemin’s mother never stopped smiling, not when he cleaned the blisters on Taemin’s hands from a day of labour, not even when a couple of bandits had cornered them on the road and stolen their savings. Eventually, her face soft face wrinkled, her frame withered and she stopped eating. She died when Taemin twenty. Starvation, Taemin thought. That was the first time Taemin remembered feeling lost and the day after burying her, alone, outside a church in the middle of the night, crying against his arm like a baby, snot and tears staining his already dirty pale blue shirt, he felt himself slipping away, only coming to when he was outside a forest he’d forgotten about for five years.

“I’m not afraid,” Taemin mumbled, kicking the gravel with his shoe, fabric barely covering his feet. He looked up, eyes skimming the empty space of grass, not a trace of the village to be seen, not even a crumb from a piece of bread. “Empty.” Taemin’s eyes went to where the Church used to be and he took a step, thinking of searching for his father’s grave as a distraction to what was calling him, but his chest tightened, feet stuck in the grass like they a pool of mud was trying to suck him underground.

Taemin swallowed, hearing the soft singing resonating in his ears.

He clenched his hands into fists and turned, taking slow steps towards the forest. Nobody called for him to stop, nobody grabbed him, this time Taemin was going to make it inside.

Swallowing, thickly, he reached the path of flowers, stopping for a moment when the singing against his ears stopped. Taemin stopped breathing, flinching when he felt cold air brush against his ear lobe.

“Stop it,” Taemin snapped, legs moving without permission. “You’re just a forest, nothing scary nothing creepy, just a forest.” Gravel crunched under his feet, the holes in his shoes giving them skin the bite into. He stopped after a few steps, looking back, face paling when he saw how far back the opening now was.

“I walked longer,” he told himself, shaking his head, forcing himself to believe the gentle whispers against the leaves weren’t hushed voices toying with him, no, it was the wind. It was nearly winter; a storm was brewing. It was the wind. His eyes went to the floor, tulips brushing his ankles. Taemin pulled his tattered shirt tighter as wind bit into his skin and he focused on the floor as he sped up, silence now his only friend.

Walking soon turned into running when the wind got louder, hushed voices speaking over each other, arguing. Taemin forced himself to look up, lifting a hand when light blinded his vision. He cried out, falling to his knees, blinking fast, the gravel under him now a soft bed of grass for his knees. Taemin felt tears fall down his cheeks as the whispering got louder, the feel of a gentle hand brushing their fingers over his frozen cheek feeling like a pack of needles pricking into his skin. Taemin sobbed, tilting his eyes back, making out a shadow against the light background, but his vision was blurred with tears so all he could do was reach out, blindly searching for contact.

“Taemin?”

“Ma-mama.”

Taemin hummed when he felt himself waking up, water trickling down his face. He blinked slowly, vision piecing together a grey sky, branches swaying in the wind, rain gently falling, hitting Taemin’s already cold body, but a familiar crackling beside them as well as the smell of smoke gave him some warmth. He licked his dry lips, throat scratchy. He looked to the side, eyes catching a figure a few steps away from him, on his knees, patting down soil in a bed of flowers. He cleared his throat pushing himself to sit up, seeing stars, but digging his nails into the grassy banks under him helped him to concentrate. His eyes didn’t leave the figure gently tending to the flowers.

“I-I-I… what happened?”

The stranger moved his fingers to the flowers, gently caressing each petal. “You fainted. The forest, it’s a lot to handle for people who’ve never entered, it overwhelms them.” The stranger turned, staying where he was. “You can call me Onew for now.”

Taemin took in Onew’s appearance. Wet, but fluffy brown hair, deep green eyes, face slightly dirty and lilac stained greens and browns from the forest floor. He looked as tattered and worn out as Taemin.

“O-Onew, okay, I’m Taemin.”

“I know.” Onew gestured beside them. Taemin looked at the fire, orange flames heating up his cold skin. “It’ll go out soon. The rain has only just started. I thought you’d wake up sooner, but I forget how the forest drains your body, how it toys with your mind.”

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s a sense I have, I know certain people, I think the forest tells me.”

Taemin nodded, but he didn’t know why. The man, Onew, he wasn’t making any sense. Taemin ran his fingers through his slightly wet hair, rain drizzling, his hands wet with dirt from not showering with clean water in months. He dreaded to think how his face looked.

“We weren’t allowed in the forest. How are you in here?”

“I live here.” Onew wiped his wet hands on his trousers, mud staining green fabric, shuffling closer to Taemin. “A village like your old one, used to be here, but the forest is alive so it has feelings, it gets angry when it’s abused and after they give you chance after chance to change your ways, they get mad. Our family figured that out the hard way, but when we understood why, we respected the land, followed it, cared for it. That’s probably why I know things, they whisper it.”

“Building houses,” Taemin whispered. “That must have made it angry when your village moved in.”

“Very angry. People left. My family stayed. I’m the only one left now. I take care of the forest because it protects me. The people in your village, they tried to cut down parts of the forest, for wood, and it killed a few of their men. The forest, it seems, is tired and, ever since my village tried to settle, they’ve given up on second chances. After that only strangers not knowing any better entered. I help them leave, guide them, but some are greedy and ignored my warnings.”

“You never hurt our village?”

“You were all scared so you kept away from us except… that night.”

Taemin’s eyes widened slightly and he straightened up. “The lights, I remember the lights.”

“A few people, from the Church, they must have been planning it for months, but they came in and tried to perform a ritual, to find whatever the monster was, but they found me instead.”

“You made the flowers and trees light up?”

Onew reached out, Taemin flinching back. Onew froze before he took Taemin’s hand in his, his grip delicate and lay Taemin’s palm on the wet grass, mud squidging between his fingers and under his nails.

“Be quiet,” Onew murmured, gently setting his hand on the back of Taemin’s, eyes focused on Taemin’s, the other boy dropping his gaze to the floor, laying his other hand on the grass, Onew setting his hand on the other hand too, his skin too soft for someone who spent their days tending to a forest. “Close your eyes and feel.”

Taemin blinked slowly before his eyes stayed shut. The fire turned silent, rain cooling his skin, but making no contact, the sound of branches cracking as they swayed in the wind now deaf to his ears. Taemin opened his eyes wide and focusing on Onew’s face, the other still looking at him.

“Feel it?” Onew gently asked.

Taemin nodded, vibrations under his palms.

“Breathe.”

Taemin exhaled shakily, lungs suddenly tight as his senses returned, the rain hitting his skin harder, fire slowly dying, no longer warming his freezing body.

“I feel…”

“It’s alive,” Onew murmured, pulling his hands from Taemin’s, the vibrations leaving Taemin’s palm, replaced only by the feel of wet grass and soil. “I got angry and, after living here for so long, it’s like the forest and I are one so they attacked for me. I didn’t mean to run you all out of your village, but I got so angry it was like I couldn’t stop.”

“It wasn’t your fault but couldn’t you have spoken with us and we could have helped, given you offerings to appease you or-or-or just… just make you feel like part of us.”

“I liked it here and I did think about it, but I never had the courage, especially since my family warned me that people would think I had powers and would hang me and, in some cases, I guess they were right about me having powers.”

Onew slowly reached out, tucking Taemin’s damp hair behind his ears.

“I’m only a few years older than you so when I used to watch your village, I saw you, a few times, running around and sometimes running too close. I wanted to shout, to play, but I got scared, I didn’t want anyone to hurt you for talking to me.”

“You’re not a witch.”

“What if I am?”

“No, I mean, I-I don’t think you’re one, but if you weren’t, you would have passed the tests.”

Onew smiled gently, cupping Taemin’s cheeks before dropping his hands from the others skin.

“You have such an innocent mind, Taemin.”

“Were you the one singing?”

“Sometimes.”

“I heard you.” Taemin pulled his hands from the grass, slowly reaching for Onew’s and squeezing gently, mud staining his and Onew’s hands, his palm calloused; rough against Onew's. “Will the forest hurt me?”

“I’d never let it hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. Not anymore. After I ran out your village, I was so angry at myself because even though I was alone in here, I still had people to watch, to learn from, but it’s… it’s been a lonely five years.”

“I can stay, can’t I? Give you company. My mother’s dead, my village is gone, for five years we were wandering, searching for home, but now it’s just me. I have nowhere else to go, Onew.”

“I-I started singing,” Onew murmured, brows furrowed. “I felt this pain in my chest, a pain I’d never felt before. I thought I was dying so I started singing.”

“To the forest?” Taemin asked.

“To you, I think. You… when you were younger you always wanted to come in and I think the life here, they knew you weren’t going to hurt them so they made a connection.” Onew tapped Taemin’s chest and then tapped his own. “You and I.”

“You and I?” Taemin repeated, pressing his hand against Onew’s and curling his fingers around Onew’s fingers, nails scratching at Onew’s dirty lilac shirt. “Do you think I’m meant to be here?”

“It feels like it.”

“The forest, it’s like a family, like a home for people like you and I?”

“You need a home?”

“I can leave, if-if you don’t want me here or if any of the life here gets angry, but you need company,” Taemin murmured, squeezing Onew’s hands gently. “I can be your companion, help you tend to the forest, help you look after it.”

“Are you sure, Taemin? Once you stay here it’s hard to leave, you get this-this need to protect what can’t always protect itself sometimes.”

Taemin nodded. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel alive, I feel like I’m meant to be here, to help you. I want to help you.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Onew’s lips twitched slightly and he nodded. “Okay, let me introduce you to my forest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of love this uwu. Please like it too. I really want to write more and I might, but we’ll see, I don’t wanna ruin it. Forest dude Onew makes my heart warm and this nature stuff makes warm and fluffy even though I hate to leave the house. Oof.


	8. Frail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho has a problem, but he won't admit it. Angst.

“Ah, shit, don’t use that stuff, it makes it sting worse.”

“You think I want to be tending to your bloody knee?” Kibum asked, grimacing as he patted the wound with a wet cloth. “It’s gross.”

Minho shrugged, hissing when Kibum pressed to hard. “You like to be on your knees?”

Kibum pressed harder, gasping and pulling back when Minho yelped. “Sorry, honey, a total accident.” Minho bit his lip, nails scratching hard at the soft leather couch. He tilted his head back, eyes on the white ceiling.

“You’re also a med student, a trainee nurse.”

“You’re my boyfriend, I just want to kiss you and argue with you, I don’t wanna clean your crusty leg.”

“That’s rude,” Minho mumbled.

Kibum hummed, glancing at Minho, dots of blood staining his white football shirt, some faint, as though they’d been scrubbed at, his hair streaked with mud and face a darker colour from where he’d fallen, face first, into the wet banking. Kibum looked back at the cloth he was holding, setting it in the ball of water and wringing it out slowly.

“How are your nose bleeds?” He carefully asked.

“I had two,” Minho admitted, tapping the couch. “I fainted after the second.”

“Better than last time you played though, last time you had three during the first half.” Kibum smiled, glancing at Minho, smile dropping when he saw Minho’s stern expression. Kibum cleared his throat, eyes back on Minho’s knee. “You told the coach about them yet?”

“He guessed when I had more than one nose bleed every time we played. He wants to bench me until they stop. Today was probably a test for me and I fucked it up.”

“It’s not your fault, babe.”

“It is, Key.” Minho sighed, lifting his hands and wiping his face, more dirt spreading over his skin from his muddy palms.

“You need to see a Doctor, Minho.”

“I’m fine,” Minho growled, voice muffled slightly by the hands against his face.

“Nose bleeds that regular aren’t normal.” Kibum set the cloth back on Minho’s knee, gently wiping away the blood around the cut on his knee. Once that was done, he set the cloth in the murky water and rolled down Minho’s once white, but now tinged with grass stains and blood, socks. Underneath they were badly grazed, but they weren’t bleeding like the cut across his knee.

“Sometimes I don’t get any.”

“Sometimes, Minho. If you have to say sometimes, you’re having too many,” Kibum countered, picking up a dry cloth and wiping away the excess water.

“They teach you not to use gloves in med school?”

“They teach me not to get a boyfriend and focus on school,” Kibum mumbled as he picked up the blue tube of antiseptic and squeezing some of the white cream onto his index finger. “I get shouted at, like, every lecture because I’m busy looking up your symptoms.”

“Don’t, Kibum, you’re not a Doctor.”

“You won’t see one. What am I supposed to do?” Kibum snapped, eyes burning as he wiped the antiseptic on Minho’s knee and then picked up a tissue and wiped his hands clean. “You’re so stubborn, but now, not only are you acting like an ass and ignoring the issue, you’re scaring me.”

“I don’t mean to.”

Kibum snorted, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Stop lying. You know how scared I am, Minho. This is serious. This is your health and you’ve been carrying on for three months now. When I woke you up screaming that first night, because your nose was bleeding and there was so much blood, I thought you’d broken your nose. You… you even told me that I sometimes hit you accidentally in my sleep.” Kibum’s hands started to shake and he clenched them into fists, exhaling slowly. “You blamed it on me. Do you know how fucking selfish you are for doing that? I thought I was hurting you, Minho, do you know what that did to me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I worry even more because you never listen!” Kibum yelled, squeezing his eyes shut before relaxing his body and opening them slowly. “It could be a simple diagnosis; you’re making me worry when you come home with a busted knee after collapsing at practice. Do you feel light headed all the time?”

“Most of the time.”

“Plus, the nosebleeds? You need more iron; I’ll buy you vitamins so when you see a Doctor you can say you’re at least trying to do something. Maybe then he’ll feel sorry you and fast track you through all the tests.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I’m the med student, what do you know?”

Minho rolled his eyes, dropping his hands back to the sofa, dark stains dulling the grey cushion. He looked down at Kibum, the older boys’ hands stained with dirt and specs of red.

“Not very sanitary without gloves, huh?”

When Kibum didn’t laugh, Minho lifted a hand, ruffling the other’s hair gently, a smile tugging at his lips as Kibum lanced at him.

“I’m sorry, Kibum, I really am, for everything.”

“Don’t just say sorry, that’s meaningless in the grand scheme of everything,” Kibum murmured, eyes back on Minho’s knee, the weight of Minho’s hand gone from the top of his head, but he knew his blonde hair was now streaked with dirt.

“Maybe I don’t wanna go because it’ll be serious. I don’t wanna give up,” Minho gently spoke.

“Who says giving up? You’re Choi Minho. You don’t even know the definition of giving up. This is asking for help; help you desperately need even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

“I’m tired, Kibum, I just wanna go back to normal but this past year, it’s like my body’s giving up on me and I can’t take it. I can’t play better, I can’t sleep, I can’t do anything and it’s hurting me so much to be this-this useless.” Minho bit his lip, humming gently. “Kibum, I don’t want to make you sad or make you hate me, I want help, but I’m scared too. I don’t mean to blame you, to lie to your face, but I thought it’d stop and when it didn’t, I didn’t want you to get worried, I didn’t want to scare you.”

“That didn’t work.”

“I know, I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry, Kibum.”

“I know you’re sorry. You’re a kind person, Minho, you hate to be a burden,” Kibum murmured, picking up a plaster and opening the packet. “But we’re gonna find out what’s wrong and then we’re gonna get through it. Together.” Kibum softly placed the plaster over Minho’s knee, patting the sticky sides down before looking up at his boyfriend and smiling gently, his eyes glinting in the fake lighting, tears threatening to spill. “You’re Choi Minho. Nothing’s ever gonna beat you.”


	9. Swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinki's smile is like the sun and Jonghyun fell hard.

Jonghyun used his feet to push himself gently, dragging his leather shcool shoes across the floor, swing set creaking with every push. The sun was low, his curfew nearly up, but Jinki still hadn’t made an appearance.

Jonghyun had met Jinki when he was nine, crying on a broken swing. Jinki had appeared, introduced himself and told him it was okay to cry as long as you remembered how to smile afterwards. Jonghyun didn’t understand, but Jinki’s calming atmosphere dried up his tears and they’d been meeting on the swings ever since that day.

“You weren’t here yesterday.”

Jonghyun looked up, lips turning into a grin when his eyes landed on Jinki.

“Ah, sorry, I had too much homework so my mum wouldn’t let me out of the house. She took my phone too, to stop me from losing concentration.”

Jinki hummed, smiling softly as he sat next to Jonghyun on the swing set, chain rattling as he planted his feet on the ground and started gently swaying. He tilted his head back, sighing softly, giving Jonghyun a few seconds to take in his tight black pants and white buttoned up shirt, the top three undone, a white undershirt peeking out.

“You’re still in your uniform.”

Jinki nodded. “I dropped my stuff off at home then went for a walk. I wasn’t going to come here, but I thought you might turn up.” Jinki glanced at Jonghyun, eyeing the Jonghyun’s similar outfit, only his top shirt button was undone, grey tie with green and white stripes at an angle. He and Jonghyun shared eye contact for a few seconds, Jinki tilting his head to the side and laughing softly.

Jonghyun looked to the floor, his face warming up. He gripped the chains of the swing tighter, kicking his already scuffed black school shoes against the astro-turf beneath them.

A boy with a sunshine smile, that’s how Jonghyun would describe Jinki. Even when his expression was unreadable, his eyes still sparkled. Jonghyun had told him that one day, had told him how his aura was a mix of yellow and orange specs against a glow of white. Jinki had laughed at him, told Jonghyun to stop making fun of him.

“Jonghyunie, are you doing okay at school?”

Jonghyun nodded, eyes still on the floor. “Average grades. Are you still an A star student?”

“I’m trying to keep up my good grades. It’s getting harder, especially since I graduate in two years.”

Jonghyun heard the sing beside him rattling louder, the wind suddenly blowing slightly harder as Jinki started swinging. Jonghyun wanted to look, but he knew that one glance at the way Jinki’s soft brown hair flew would heat up his face again.

“I don’t know what I want to do yet so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Don’t be pressured, hyung.”

“Hyung? I told you, just say Jinki, I don’t mind.”

“You’re still older,” Jonghyun argued, lifting his eyes to the rest of the park, a couple of kids running around the jungle gym, playfully pushing each other. “I gotta respect my elders.”

Jinki snorted. “You make me sound ancient.”

“You were born in the eighties.”

Jinki tutted, feet grazing the turf, putting an end to his swinging. “The last year.”

“Still the eighties. A completely different decade. It’s creepy, you’re creepy, should we really be friends, hyung?”

“Ah, stop it, one year isn’t a lot.”

Jonghyun grinned, glancing at Onew, the other looking ahead, lips upturned in a small smile.

When he turned fifteen, Jonghyun fell for more than Jinki’s smile. Jinki had hugged him goodbye, his face inches apart from his when he pulled away and then Jinki had smiled and Jonghyun swears his heart had never beaten so fast as it did when he took it in, his eyes squinted shut, the sun (behind Jonghyun) beaming down on Jinki’s face as though it were projecting the light. Jonghyun's chest had tightened so much he thought Jinki was going to have to call for an ambulance. He got through it, the pain in his chest lessening when Jinki looked away.

“I’m only kidding, but you shouldn’t feel pressured. If you don’t know what to do, join a University and think about it then.”

“After the debt, hmm?”

“Then take a year out and get a job. Life shouldn’t be so stressful, Jinki. You have great parents; they’ll look after you.”

Jinki hummed. “One year apart and you’re so wise, you should have been born in the eighties, Jjong.” Jinki turned his head to Jonghyun, brunette bangs falling over his eyes. “What are your plans? Music.”

Jonghyun nodded, straightening up and looking back at the kids playing a few yards away from them.

“Hopefully I can write or produce or busk, I don’t know, I just want to do something I love, even if I end up on the streets, I want to sing.”

“You won’t end up on the streets. I’ll always be here. I’ll give you a rent-free room for a few nights.”

“A few nights?”

“I plan to have a few cats or dogs, so I’ll have too many mouths to feed.”

Jonghyun looked at Jinki, narrowing his eyes at the other. Jinki grinned, reaching out, the backs of his fingers brushing over Jonghyun’s cheek, Jonghyun’s face instantly softening.

When Jonghyun was sixteen he figured out what love was, figured out what the flushed cheeks meant so he told Jinki the only way he could and this time Jinki didn’t laugh, the older boy mature and, in hindsight, also in the depths of fast heartbeats and soft touches. Jinki listened as Jonghyun rambled on about his voice that sounded sweet like honey, his skin soft like a baby, his iridescent smile blinding him, teeth always gleaming.

Jonghyun doesn’t remember how long he rambled on about Jinki’s sunshine personality, but he does remember when Jinki cut him off.

That was their first kiss.

Soft and warm, like drinking hot chocolate as snow fell outside, a chill in the air, but lips burning with heat. Delicious.

“A few weeks then, hmm? Hyung will look after you as long as you’re happy.”

“I’m happy being wherever you are,” Jonghyun whispered, taking the soft hand near his face and gripping it softly, their entwined hands swinging beside them. Jonghyun squeezed Jinki’s hand softly, both of their palms soft, the hard world yet to leave a mark in their innocent bubble of young love.

“Don’t stress, Jinki. Just keep smiling for me.”


	10. Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin loves to test Kibum's nerves with pattern on pattern.

“You aren’t getting changed?” Kibum asked.

“I am!” Taemin shouted from the bathroom.

Kibum picked up the clothes he’d laid out for Taemin, frowning.

“Ah, Lee Taemin, you said you wouldn’t wear anything stupid and that’s why I laid out a cute shirt and black skinny jeans.”

“I’m not gonna wear anything stupid, asshole! I can dress myself!”

Kibum rolled his eyes, already pulling the clothes off the hanger and then putting the hangers back in the wardrobe, closing the mirror doors, light from the chandelier above the end of the bed glinting off the mirror. He turned, gently folding the clothes and setting them on top of the endless supply of pink and white fluffy pillows, three pink and white striped at the front of the fluffy mountain like guards.

Surprisingly, Taemin had chosen the pillows.

“The last time we went out with our friends, you wore a purple paisley shirt and bright red pants. I nearly threw up,” Kibum said.

“Hey, don’t be mean to me. You like how I dress.”

“I think it’s cute at home, not out in public, babe.” Kibum sighed, walking to the bathroom and pushing down the metal handle, the door opening a crack before it was slammed shut.

“I’m naked!”

“I’ve seen you naked before! And don’t do that! You could have trapped my fingers!” Kibum pushed on the door, pressing his forehead against the door and knocking hard. “Taemin, let me in.”

“I don’t need someone to dress me.”

“You do! You bought furry Gucci shoes that you’ve worn once.”

“Twice actually, I don’t want them to get ruined.”

“And what about those creepy pants that made it look like your socks were rolled over your pants? Gross.”

“You said they were cute!”

“Until I saw pictures of us the next day. I must have been drunk. You even wore that heavy bomber jacket with it, your proportions were all wrong. I mean it made your legs look long, but everything else; completely off, babe.”

“I wish my boyfriend wasn’t a fashion designer.” Taemin groaned from behind the door. “My pants won’t fit; I hate skinny jeans so much.”

Kibum dropped his hand to the handle, rattling it as he pushed it open, a thud stopping him from opening the door but a mere crack.

“Taemin! What did you put against the door?”

“The cabinet, so don’t push too hard or glass will smash everywhere.”

“Idiot,” Kibum mumbled pulling away from the door and sitting on the bed, crumpling soft pink sheets.

Kibum laughed to himself, Taemin’s outfits through the years scarring him for life, but never failing to put a smile on his lips.

“Remember the black and white striped shirt under the green blazer! You were like a modern Beetlejuice.”

“It was spooky season, I wanted to look spooky.”

“It wasn’t even fancy dress and people thought you were in a costume.”

“Amazing spooky season outfit then.”

“You looked creepy, Taemin.”

“Spooky season for the third time, babe.”

Kibum snorted, straightening up as he looked at himself through the mirrored wardrobe doors. Shiny black leather creepers, black skinny jeans, ripped, but not too much to cheapen his look, a long sleeved black and white shirt tucked into his jeans and a plain black t-shirt on top, also tucked in, belt black and studded so his arms and legs were the main focus. His face had the bare minimum of makeup: eyes a gentle black shimmer and lips stained a subtle red. His nails black and deep purple hair combed back, bouncy.

Kibum smiled at himself. He loved fashion, he loved accentuating the best parts of his body and bringing out the confidence in other people.

“Key, babe, are you listening? Have you gone without me?”

Kibum hummed, eyes going to the white painted door, small painted cherry blossoms staining the white, smudged sections of greens and pale browns to exaggerate branches flowing in the wind as pink and white petals fell, almost lifelike.

“I’m here,” Kibum answered, eyes going to the walls, a baby pink, slightly darker than the bedding to match the cherry blossoms painted on the door.

The carpet was white and fluffy, curtains a soft pink, matching the linen on the bed. He tilted his head back, eyes on the wallpapered ceiling, more cherry blossoms on top of a baby blue sky that made it look like they were sleeping outside underneath hundreds of branches reaching out, covered in specs of white and pinks buds.

He loved his and Taemin’s bedroom.

It was a safe place: innocent and soft. The stuff they did in their room, not so much, but Kibum appreciated the innocence, and it made Taemin happy to have such an inviting bedroom so that was the only room in their house that never needed a second redecoration.

“Babe,” Kibum slowly started.

“Hmm?”

“You know I love you and I know you put up with a lot and I know this is nagging that you’ve heard a million times before, but please let me dress you, like, ten percent of the time.”

“You’re fine when I go to work.”

“The ten percent is when we go out for food, you know, get drunk in fancy places. You go to work, ie your studio, in sweats, you need comfort for your dancing and when you come home you usually walk around in your boxers and by God, I appreciate the sight, just… your decisions are sometimes really ugly.”

“Bad ugly?”

“A lot of the time, yes.”

“Again, why did I choose to be in a relationship with a fashion designer.”

“Your style is cute, I love it because you’re adorable, but when it’s with other people, even our friends, I don’t want anyone making fun of you even in their minds.”

Taemin was silent behind the bathroom door, the sound of scraping indicating he was moving the glass cabinet.

“I like what I wear, but don’t stress babe, I look sexy today.”

“Your sexy or my sexy?”

Taemin opened the bathroom door, taking a step into the bedroom and gesturing to himself. Kibum bit his lip as his eyes ran over Taemin’s body.

Red pants with a white and black tartan design, zips at both of the tops of his thighs and one at his left calf, black leather boots on his feet, soles thick, pants down to his ankles. A chain on his left side and a garter underneath the zip design. He was wearing a black shirt, partly tucked in, red and white fishnet type shirt underneath; covering his arms, his nails also painted black and as Kibum looked to Taemin's face he saw a small amount of foundation, cheeks a subtle blush, face glittering in the light, probably from the shimmer packs into his silver hair.

“Ah, babe,” Kibum murmured, reaching out for Taemin and making grabbing motions, the other walking towards him. “How long did it take for you to pick this out?”

“Looks good, right?” Taemin asked, taking Kibum’s hands in his and squeezing gently, letting Kibum use Taemin’s hands to push himself to stand, the two at the same height.

“Looks hella good. Where’s this Taemin when you’re choosing outfits? Is the crazy pattern on pattern stuff fake? Do you just do it to piss me off?”

Taemin rolled his eyes, letting go of Kibum’s hands and wrapping his arms around the others neck, Kibum setting his hands on Taemin’s hips, the fabric under his palms surprisingly soft, but Taemin was all about comfort so Kibum should have expected the smoothness.

“I have zero style, I get it.”

“Then how’d you go from that to this, hmm?”

“With, like, weeks of effort and I thought as long as it’s all the colours matching, it’ll cute.”

“Now we just need to accessorise,” Kibum murmured, leaning in and kissing Taemin’s lips gently, lifting a hand when he pulled away and cupping Taemin’s cheek, brushing a thumb over Taemin’s lips before dropping his fingers to Taemin’s neck, feeling Taemin’s heartbeat speeding up under his the pads of his fingers as he squeezed gently.

“I’m thinking a choker and a few rings.”

“Subtle, I like it.”

“This is anything but subtle, but it just needs a little extra.” Kibum’s eyes flitted to Taemin’s hair and he lifted a hand, patting the greyish hair smoothed into a quiff to one side, short hair on the other, but it was anything but smooth, mostly just friend. “Less hairspray, honey, you’re gonna light up.”

“Get lit?”

“Literally,” Kibum whispered, leaning in and kissing Taemin’s neck hard, teeth grazing the others skin.

“So, is this an okay outfit to go out in?” Taemin asked, Kibum’s lips feeling the vibrations against Taemin’s throat.

Kibum pulled away, taking a step back, hands on his hips as he gave Taemin a once over.

“Too sexy.”

“Too sexy!”

“I’m jealous,” Kibum teased, grinning

“Shouldn’t you be happy, brag about your boyfriend, narcissist.”

Kibum grinned as Taemin turned, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

“Ah, babe, it’s a joke! You look hot! I love it!”

“Shut up, loser.”

Kibum sat back on the bed, falling on his back, eyes on the wallpapered ceiling.

“Ah, Lee Taemin, you have no idea how that sort of pattern on you affects me,” Kibum muttered, cat-like eyes slipping shut.

“Hey babe, what about this?”

Kibum groaned, pushing himself to sit up and opening his eyes.

Taemin grinned like a Cheshire cat, hands pulling the silver blazer shining over his torso.

Kibum’s eyes widened, mouth open, but before he spoke, he hummed and his expression softened.

“Ah, babe, you did a good job,” he lied, smiling softly when Taemin’s face lit up. The jacket, way too much, not completely ugly, but still a step too far for the otherwise flawless outfit.

“Seriously? I thought it’d be too much in your opinion, I mean, I like it, I feel like an eboy disco ball, but I thought you’d tell me the jacket was too much. You think it’s cool?”

“It’s cute,” he lied once more, because sometimes the outlandish outfits were worth it in return for the beaming smile on Taemin’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The super m outfit got me fucked up uwu. And the jacket I seriously love it, like it was a choice, but an amazing choice. But also uwu Kibum fashion designer and Taemin clueless, I’m into it, I wanna write more cute stories about them :))))


	11. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's snowing outside, but Shinee still have work to do.

“I wonder how long it’s been snowing,” Jonghyun whispered, looking outside the full-length window.

Jinki hummed, following Jonghyun’s gaze. Outside the atmosphere was bleak, snow falling fast, turning into beds of icey water on the concrete, window ledges thick with white beds of snow. Through the thick fall of snow, you could barely see a few yards in front of the SM building.

“It’s coming down hard,” Kibum said, the younger stood to Jinki’s left side, Minho on his right and Taemin between Jonghyun and Jinki.

“Looks like a storm,” Minho added.

“Kind of makes me want to run outside,” Jonghyun murmured, laughing softly as he lifted his arm and wiped his sweaty brow. “Ah, I wish they turned the heating down, don’t they realise how hard practise is?”

Jinki nodded, moving his eyes to Jonghyun, watching the other run his fingers through his hair, wet with sweat.

“Hyung will make dinner when we get home.”

“When we eventually get home,” Kibum countered, turning his head, eyes going to where Taemin and Minho were stood beside Jinki. “Yah, Minho, don’t you dare hit me with snowballs when we get in the van.”

Minho smirked, Jinki speaking before he could start an argument.

“Taemin, do you have another vocal lesson or can we go back to practising after the meeting?”

“Vocal training,” Taemin mumbled, his brows furrowing as he looked outside.

Jinki smiled softly, looking back outside. He knew how hard Taemin worked, but his voice was still straining, Jinki reassured Taemin that once he’d gone through puberty, he’d sing better than him and Jonghyun, but that never made Taemin smile because he knew Jinki was only saying it to make him feel better. In truth, Jinki didn’t know how far any of their groups talents could get them, but he was determined not to let anyone but himself fret over minor things.

“Hyung will make ramen in the back and then we can eat.”

Taemin nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We used to push each other in the snow,” Jonghyun gently spoke. “The person who ended up the soggiest had to buy the ramen. The hyung’s are surprisingly lethal when it comes to paying, but they always bought dessert.”

“Then, are you buying dessert?” Taemin asked, wide eyes on Jonghyun, the older boy still focused on the window.

“Hyung will make dinner tomorrow.”

“I didn’t ask that, hyung.”

Jonghyun smiled, looking at Taemin. “Maybe tomorrow,” he gently spoke, reaching out and pinching Taemin’s cheek.

“Neither of us have money to spare,” Jinki said, nudging Taemin with his elbow. “We’ll save up all our money so on Christmas we can binge on desserts.”

“Not too much, management won’t want us putting on weight,” Kibum said.

Taemin hummed, his tone high pitched and soft.

“It’s snowing pretty hard. We should run around the building, see who gets the coldest,” Taemin spoke.

“Bad idea. We have an image now, Taeminie,” Kibum said. “Best new male group, best style icons, the list goes on.”

Jinki caught Kibum’s lips twitching slightly. He was proud, and so he should be, Jinki saw the talent ready to be unleashed and 2008 was only their first year. Jinki bit his bottom lip, chapped from the cold winter, to stop his own lips from breaking into a smile. This was Shinee’s first year and it was tough, the pressure was only mounting with every success, the fear of failure behind every door, but even through all the fighting, he knew they were going to make it in some way. Even if they didn’t make it big, even if their group turned into a faint memory of a bunch of cute adolescents singing about a pretty noona, they’d still left a mark.

“Do you think we’ll have a comeback next year?” Taemin asked.

“We didn’t flop,” Jonghyun slowly spoke. “So maybe, I don’t know, hopefully.”

Kibum grinned. “Ah, I can’t wait to get back on stage.”

“Stop smiling, narcissist,” Minho muttered.

“Hyung,” Kibum finished, narrowing his eyes at Minho, the other rolling his eyes.

Jinki laughed to himself.

“Hyung wants an early Christmas present: no fighting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is completely OT5 as friends. During this time, it’d be 2008 so Taemin would be like 13/14 so, you know, don’t make this cute fic gross thnx. We stan fanfiction, but not that sort of fanfiction.


	12. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tattoo artist Jonghyun tattoos his babe, Taemin, on date nights.

“Jonghyun, don’t use freezing water!” Taemin complained, hitting Jonghyun’s shoulder gently, the leather bench he was sat on squeaking gently as he shuffled.

“What other water do I use?” Jonghyun asked as he wrapped the blue cloth tightly around Taemin’s wrist.

“You left the cold tap running, obviously it’s going to go icey.”

Taemin tutted, looking away from Jonghyun, eyeing the pictures on the wall: Jonghyun’s proudest tattoos. Surprisingly, they were mostly small, delicate pieces, but they were all flawless, almost like birthmarks. Jonghyun squeezed Taemin’s wrist gently as he held the damp flannel against the others pale skin, Taemin’s eyes going to Jonghyun, the others head dropped low so Taemin could only make out his face if he looked closely, otherwise it was hidden by pastel pink hair, brown roots being Taemin’s main focal point.

“You need to dye your hair.”

“You can do it for me on the weekend,” Jonghyun muttered, squeezing the blue flannel on Taemin’s wrist every few seconds, water dripping on the laminin flooring, a mess Jonghyun would leave in his shop until the morning, probably with a subtle tease about evaporation cleaning it up but it wasn’t Taemin’s business to worry about.

“It’s still cold, Jjong.”

“It’ll warm up soon, babe, I promise.”

“Not soon enough. I’ll get frostbite.”

“I’ll give you my hand.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe,” Jonghyun mumbled, lips twitching into a smile, teeth peeking out from under his lips.

Taemin hummed, reaching out with the hand Jonghyun wasn’t holding and poking the diamond stud in Jonghyun’s nose, Jonghyun glancing at him before dark eyes went back to the wet cloth.

“I think I want my nose pierced.”

“You’d look cuter with your eyebrow pierced.”

“What about my septum?”

“Hmm, I don’t think you’d suit it,” Jonghyun said, shuffling closer, the black chair he was sat on rolling with his movements.

“Will you pierce my eyebrow after this?”

Jonghyun snorted. “Babe, I’m not a piercer, get Key to do it. I don’t want you to get an infection.”

“He makes me book an appointment and then he doubles the price, says it’s the tip because otherwise I won’t.”

“Then go somewhere else, but who’s gonna hold your hand after you start crying.”

“That was one time! Key said he’d countdown, but he pierced my ear as soon as he started,” Taemin whined, kicking his legs gently, sock covered feet tapping Jonghyun’s knees. “Key still laughs at me for it.”

“Everyone laughs at you for it.”

“Because you’re all stupid.”

Taemin sighed, clenching and unclenching the hand connected to the wrist Jonghyun was still squeezing.

“Stop moving.”

“My arm’s going to cramp up.”

“You’re a bitch to tattoo.”

Taemin smirked. “Especially if you wear outfits like that,” he murmured, eyeing Jonghyun’s black denim skinny jeans, ripped at the knees and fitted white button down, rolled at the sleeves to show off both of his arms, covered in dark greys and blacks as well as splashes of colours.

“I won’t sue you for harassment because you’re my boyfriend.”

“You’re wearing a tight outfit, I should be jealous, who are you trying to impress?” Taemin countered, eyes on the Jonghyun’s shirt, top button undone and a black leather choker around his neck hiding more of his skin.

“Work uniform. Maybe you should take a leaf out of my book, get more tips.”

Taemin pressed his palm against his leg, the soft cotton from his grey sweatpants ticking his skin. His white shirt was baggy, collarbones peeking out.

“I sweat a lot.”

“Hot.”

“And I won’t get tipped, it’s dance practice, I’d just get told to work harder.”

“Hmm, even hotter.”

“You should work shirtless, show your clients your tattoos.”

“I’ll save the discreet tattoos for my boyfriend.”

“I’m honoured, ah, what I would give for at least one tattoo.”

“You have one,” Jonghyun said, grabbing Taemin’s other wrist, thumb brushing over the small half-moon on the palm side of his wrist. “Matching with me, cute, right.”

“Yours looks shit.”

“Because you did it,” Jonghyun said, letting go of Taemin’s hand and turning his arm over, a small, shaky half-moon mixed into his sleeve. “And yours is kind of messed up. Who’d have thought it? A tattoo artist in love with someone allergic to the ink.”

“It still itches when I think about it.”

Jonghyun nodded, smiling gently as he looked back at the flannel.

“I can’t believe it spread even to your face, that rash, and the swelling, I swear my heart stopped beating. I thought I fucked up everything.”

“Even if you messed up my face, I’d still be here with you. You’re cute, but also sexy.”

“I’m serious, Tae, I could have scarred you. Even if you didn't at that moment, years from now you'd end up resenting me and that scared me. I don't want to lose you. Ever."

“I didn’t know I was allergic and neither did you, so stop stressing Jonghyun. I'm fine. We both have kind of messy half-moons. At least they're matching."

Taemin sighed, lifting his hand and scratching Jonghyun’s scalp gently, fingers curling through soft hair.

“Is it ready yet?"

“Maybe, let’s see,” Jonghyun murmured, slowly pulling away the flannel and tossing it into the sink beside him before he gripped the edges of the paper and delicately pulled away the paper, grinning when the perfect image of a cartoon green dragon appeared on the palm side of his wrist.

“I should do kids parties, make more money.”

“Anyone with more than one braincell can do this."

"So, you're out of the equation?"

Taemin smiled, running his fingers to the choker on Jognhyun's neck and pulling on the leather gently. He lifted his other arm, admiring the brightly coloured reptile.

“These are like cute tattoo date nights just for us, no kids involved," Taemin muttered, pulling his hand away from the leather joker as Jonghyun picked up the second tattoo, the same tattoo except the dragon was pink. He turned his arm over, a few square inches of space on his wrist, a place he refused to tattoo in favour of his and Taemin’s semi-permanent tattoo date nights.


	13. Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonfire night is the same night as date night.

“It smells like sugar.”

“Sugar?” Kibum repeated. “Where are you getting sugar from?”

Minho gestured behind them, Kibum looking back, eyes on a van behind the fencing around the field, huge bags of candyfloss hanging on the sides of the metal vehicle, not leaving much to the imagination on what else they were selling.

“Okay, I’ll give you that, it smells sweet, but how can you smell sugar over the fire?”

“I have better senses than you.”

Kibum rolled his eyes before looked back to the blazing bonfire in the middle of the field, crackling against the gentle whistles of the wind. Kids were running around as adults yelled for them to be careful.

It was bonfire night, which also tied in on date night, which meant a cheesy firework show in the chilly bite of winter.

“It’s like the scent of marshmallows, all toasty. I love it. It’s kind of like those scented candles you light when you have a bath: sickly sweet.”

Kibum glanced at Minho, a thick red and black tartan scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, the tip of his nose red and small puffs of icy clouds passing his lips with every breath. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, eyes shiny as they mirrored the flames under the soft glow of the moon.

“Do you want some candyfloss? Because you could have just said, it’s not like I’d ditch you.”

“You said you’d buy dessert?” Minho countered, looking down at his boyfriend.

Kibum locked eyes with Minho, his own slightly blurry from the frosty wind attacking his sinuses.

“And I will, but candyfloss isn’t dessert. It’s basically fluffy sugar, if you want dessert choose, like, chocolate fudge cake or cheesecake or even a pie.”

“Donuts?”

“Think fancier, idiot,” Kibum mumbled, elbowing Minho’s arm, blue nylon from their heavy matching winter coats scratching each other. Kibum sighed, wrapping both of his arms around one of Minho’s; leaning into the other.

“Aigoo, Minho it’s so cold.”

“I told you to bring a scarf.”

“I thought we’d be home by now,” Kibum complained, nuzzling Minho’s arm gently, the tip of his nose like ice. “Did you turn the heating on before we left?”

“I told you to do it when I was getting my shoes on.”

“You can sleep on the couch,” Kibum grouchily murmured, eyes going to a few kids tucked away at the back of the groups of families nearest to the bonfire, drawing patterns into the air with gold sparklers.

“When are the fireworks starting?”

“Midnight,” Kibum answered, dragging his hands down Minho’s arm so he could push both his hands into Minho’s pocket, his skin grazing Minho’s. “You owe me the entry fee if they’re crap.”

“We didn’t pay, Key, we snuck in.”

“Like teenagers,” Kibum added, catching Minho’s pale lips tugging into a smile out of the corner of his eyes.

“Ah, I feel ten years younger, like we’re back at school sneaking to the changing rooms during P.E to make out a little in the toilets.”

“You owe me for that too. Payment for a waste of time.”

Minho tutted. “Isn’t my time enough.”

“Then half the entry fee if the fireworks last ten seconds,” Kibum gently spoke, lips against the back of Minho’s shoulder so his voice was partly muffled. “I’ve never seen a fire that big, it’s kinda scary when you think about it too much.”

“Wanna get closer.”

Kibum pinched Minho’s hand. “I said it’s scary, obviously I like where we’re stood.”

“Coward.”

“It doesn’t matter where you stand when the fireworks are in the sky.”

“But if we’re cold, why wouldn’t we move closer to the fire.”

“Because it’s nice in the back, just watching.”

“And scary.”

Kibum laughed against Minho’s arm, shaking his head. “You’re not funny, asshole.”  
Kibum focused back onto the fire, embers flying in the direction of the wind, concreting Kibum’s plan of staying well away.

“I wonder if that was normal sized how big a marshmallow would have to be,” Minho suddenly spoke.

“If it were normal sized, then the marshmallows would be normal sized too.”

“You know what I mean, you just have to be right, don’t you?”

“Always.” Minho pulled his hand from his pocket, wrapping it around Key’s shoulders and rubbing the others arm softly, Key leaving his icey hands inside Minho’s pocket. A smile tugged at Key’s lips and he relaxed against Minho, heat flushing slightly and not only from the wind.

It was nice, having Minho.

“You stink.”

So much for that.

Kibum hummed against Minho’s coat before pulling back so he could make out Minho’s face, the other’s eyes focused on the flames in front of them.

“Still stinks of sugar?”

“Smoky.”

“The fire then? It, kind of, smells bad.”

“Like you, it stinks.”

“Babe, you’re…” Key trailed off, burying his face against Minho’s coat and laughing softly. “Babe, you’re such a dork… I love you.”


	14. Overgrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onew’s gardening and even though Taemin’s scared of bugs, he loves Jinki a lot.

The sun was beating down hot rays, the sky a baby blue, no cloud in sight. A perfect day for gardening. Even if the only other gardener was an amateur.

“Watch your fingers, Taemin,” Jinki whispered, taking the sharp shears from Taemin’s hand and taking over trimming the dead roses from the bush, his movements fast and precise, thorns tickling his fingers, a gentle snip being the only noise through the sound of buzzing, bees Jinki promised he’d gently swat away should they take a flight path to Taemin. One had, and Taemin fell into soil, but he only laughed it off when Jinki told him to go  
inside.

Jinki found it sweet and made sure to swat away anything that made Taemin flinch.

Taemin tutted.

“Watch your fingers and then take the shears, hmm? I’m not a baby, I’m a grown man. I think I know how to avoid thorns.””

Jinki’s lips twitched into a smile, tossing the dead buds into the black bin bag before handing the metal shears back to Taemin, the younger boy taking them by the sharp edges; making Jinki wince, but not take them away again.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, just be careful. I don’t want to go to hospital today.”

“Thorns aren’t that painful.”

“I meant don’t cut off your fingers, sweetie.”

Jinki hesitated, eyes on Taemin’s hands as they delicately snipped away at the dead buds, fingers clumsily hitting thorns, but never leaving a mark. Jinki shuffled to sit more comfortably on the floor, legs bent so he could set his bare arms, skin slightly grazed with dirt, on his muddy jeans, baby blue cotton, damp with sweat, stretching across his back as he leaned forward, eyes like a cat watching its prey, the prey being Taemin’s fingers.

Taemin glanced at Jinki before he looked back at what he was doing.

“Ah, Onew, you’re making me nervous watching me like that.”

“Just watch your fingers.”

“Always so scared,” Taemin complained, handing Jinki a few heads of dead flowers.

“You’re clumsy. I’m always so scared.”

Jinki licked his chapped lips, throat begging for a drop of water, but their water bottles were empty and both of them knew that if they went back inside, they’d prefer the cool AC to the sun heating their skin and making sweat trickling from pores all over their bodies.

“Once you finish, we can go inside and sleep for the rest of the afternoon.”

Taemin nodded quickly.

“We’ve been working since eight, I thought when I told you I’d help it’d be, like, three hours and we’re finished, but it’s after lunch and I’m starving. An apple isn’t enough for a growing boy to survive on.”

“You’re twenty-seven, Taemin. No more growing to be done."

“Still growing. I swear Minho looks smaller.”

Jinki barked out a laugh, taking another few dead roses from Taemin’s hands. Taemin wiped his face, beads of sweat dripping down his face, before he wiped his hands on his dirty jeans, pulling down the lilac shirt he was wearing, but it didn’t stop his skin from peeking out as he leaned over the soil. Jinki’s eyes twitched over to his pale skin, but his worry for Taemin’s fingers was far greater than the love for Taemin’s skin.

“He probably forgot his insoles, don’t think too hard about it.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Taemin mumbled, pushing his hat back, eyes focused on the last few dead roses in the bush. “Ah, Jinki, we should have just done half the garden. I can't even feel my toes anymore. Everything's aching and everything's numb.”

“Then we’d have to do it tomorrow, but now we can just have a lazy Sunday.” Jinki patted Taemin’s back. “Just this and we’re done.”

Taemin paused for a minute, eyes wandering around the front garden. Freshly cut grass, gravel in perfect symmetry, leading a clear path to the entrance of the house, flowers planted either side in an array of rainbows. Tall, green hedges, bushy against red fences. He dropped his gaze back to the rose bush, two either side of the house, the final one Taemin was currently hacking away at.

“This isn’t even facing the public; we could have just waited for them to drop off.”

“We have a big garden and I like it looking nice, even if people can’t see it.”

“I guess it makes me feel less guilty since if you were alone, you’d only be, like halfway done.”

“Or maybe it took a while because you’re delicate?” Jinki teased, nudging Taemin’s leg with his boot. “Delicate hands, hmm?”

Taemin grinned, Jinki pulling out the slightly dirty rag from his front pocket and wiping Taemin’s face.

“You’re all sweaty. I thought you didn't sweat.”

"Doing stuff like this in the middle of the summer makes me sweat. It'd make anyone sweat."

"Not immune anymore, huh? Getting old, like me. I'll run you a bath, help soothe your muscles.

“I want a shower. I'll fall asleep in the bath, I'm so tired. I mean, I’ll definitely need one after you wipe my face with a dirty rag,” Taemin said, flinching as something buzzed by his ear.

“It’s gone, don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

Taemin nodded, straightening up more, back clicking, making Jinki wince at the noise.

“Not that dirty, just a little.”

“Like me, huh?”

Jinki laughed, putting the rag back into his pocket and pushing Taemin’s hat down slightly harder.

“First a glass of water, then a shower and, when you’re finished, I’ll have some food ready for you. Thank you, for helping me. Even though you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re a hard worker.”

“I need to stay on my boyfriends’ good side,” Taemin said, setting the shears down as he snipped the last bud, handing Jinki the almost dead flower.

“You’re always on my good side.”

“Then maybe I’m here because I feel guilty and now I kind of wish I stayed inside.”

Jinki hummed, tossing the flower away before looking back at Taemin, grinning, teeth glinting in the sunlight as Taemin’s cupped his cheeks, nails dirty and palms slightly tickled with soil. Taemin gently stroked Jinki’s cheeks with his thumb, smearing soil in strokes from how sweaty his hands were.

Jinki only smiled, gums showing, nose scrunched up, Taemin’s lips slowly tugging into a smile, matching Jinki’s.

“But when I see you smile like that; it makes the crippling pain running down my spine worth it.”


	15. Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun says Taemin's a legend, the younger boy doesn't necessarily agree.

“You can go home,” Jonghyun said.

Taemin flinched, nearly slipping on the wooden floor, was wet from the sweat dripping off his body. His shirt was soaked, light grey turned dark, and even his black sweatpants were sticking to his legs.

“Jonghyun hyung.”

“Get some sleep, Taemin. You’ve been here since this morning. Have you eaten?”

“A snack.”

Jonghyun tutted. “Taemin, come on, let’s go back to the dorms.”

“One more time. I promise,” Taemin said, breathing erratic.

His heart was pounding irregular beats, limbs trembling slightly from the strain he was putting on his body. He glanced at himself in the mirrors surrounding the studio, catching a glimpse of his flushed face, blonde hair sticking to his forehead, but his arms were too tired to lift up and move them.

“I need to get this-this right,” Taemin stuttered, gesturing to the floor, throat gasping for water. He cleared his throat, trying to catch his breath and get rid of the churning in his stomach.

He looked at Jonghyun, the older boy’s expression unreadable, though Taemin’s mind was racing with thoughts, so he may have just ignored the twinkle in his eye.

“One more time, hyung.”

Jonghyun smiled, taking a step inside and softly shutting the studio’s door, a gentle click echoing off the walls, before he leaned against the frosted glass.

“I heard you tell the staff that an hour ago.”

Taemin moved his gaze to the mirrors, watching Jonghyun stalk into the room, the older boy dressed in black sweatpants and a loose tank top, red hoodie on top of the white cotton that was hung way too low against his chest. His steps were light, making gently patting sounds against the wood as he walked closer to Taemin.

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

“I thought you’d need help cleaning up.”

“That’s nice, but don’t you have stuff to be getting on with?”

“I finished. I was watching, from outside. You’re getting better, if that were possible,” Jonghyun whispered, Taemin catching the older boy’s lips breaking into a grin, teeth peeking out from stained red lips.

Makeup. Must have been a photo shoot.

“Hyung, stop with the compliments and let me practice one more time.”

“So, one more and you come back to the dorms? You’re not lying?” Jonghyun asked, now only a few metres away from Taemin.

“Maybe lying. Twice, three times, it’s all the same. Once I start it, I can’t stop.”

Taemin dropped his eyes to the floor for a few seconds, looking back and smiling when he saw Jonghyun now stood beside him.

“Hyung, go and sleep.”

“I can sleep here, and wait.”

“I’d leave you.”

“Leave me, hmm?” Jonghyun asked, his fingers brushing Taemin’s, the younger boy biting his lip, his heart beating out of his chest and not only because of how much stamina he'd been draining from dancing non-stop.

“One more time and then I’ll come back to the dorms. Go, I’ll follow in a minute.”

“That’s a lie, Taeminie, come on, it’s perfect, you’re perfect. You can’t do it properly now because you’re exhausted and then you’ll get angrier and do it more and get even angrier. There’s no point now.”

Jonghyun slowly walked in front of Taemin, hands hovering in the air before he set them on Taemin’s shoulder, squeezing gently, Taemin’s shoulders now heavy with not only stress.

“So, tense. You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed. I mean, I was relaxed, before you walked in.”

“I make you nervous?”

Taemin straightened up, standing a few centimetres taller than Jonghyun because they were both wearing sneakers.

“Not nervous, hyung.”

Jonghyun hummed, right hand making its way up to Taemin’s face. He bent his fingers, brushing his knuckles against Taemin’s face, eyes focused on Taemin’s face, on his expressions.

“You’re breathing heavy. Is your heart beating fast? Because of me? Do you like hyung that much?”

“Hyung, I just stopped dancing. I’m out of breath.”

Taemin forced himself to control his breathing, chest moving slowly; lungs desperate for more air.

That only made Jonghyun smile harder, this time teeth showing instead of playing a game of peek-a-boo.

“I don’t think I can carry on now, anyways, I stopped for too long, my hands are tingling.”

Jonghyun nodded, the hand not rested on Taemin’s cheek making its way to his hand, fingers curling around Taemin’s hand and squeezing gently.

“Then, back to the dorms?”

“I need to stretch.”

“Stop making excuses.”

“Hyung…” Taemin sighed, trailing off, throat raw. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his face, sneak its way to the corner of his mouth, leaving a bitter taste against his tongue.

Jonghyun smiled gently, leaning in, Taemin instantly flinching out of his hold, taking a step back, reality sinking in.

“Don’t,” Taemin muttered, lifting his hands, putting them both between himself and Jonghyun. “Not here. We talked about this.”

“We already looked like we were in a lovers embrace.”

“That’s just you being you, just… no kissing, hyung. I don’t want to risk it.”

Taemin turned around, walking to the laptop connected to the speakers, Jonghyun following him and sitting beside the laptop propped up on the chair, pulling his legs bent against his chest. Taemin’s eyes flickered over to him for a few seconds before he focused on the screen.

Jonghyun relaxed, blinking slowly as he watched Taemin, the younger boy’s expression serious as he focused on the music, his lips pursed into a pout, brows furrowed.

“Cute,” Jonghyun muttered.

“Cute?”

“You. You’re cute. How could someone as cute as you be a legend. Taemin, I’m so jealous.”

Taemin’s fingers faltered slightly and music started blaring out of the speakers, Taemin quickly cutting the dubstep beat and turning his head to glare at Jonghyun.

“No, I’m-”

“You are. In this industry you’re a legend, I’m never going to compete with your dancing. Vocally, maybe, but even then, you’re getting better. Hyung’s so jealous of you. Are you the definition of perfect Taemin? You have the face and the talent.”

“That’s what legendary people are based off? Your dancing and singing abilities?”

“A high bar.”

Taemin laughed, the sound short and breathy.

“The highest, hyung.”

Taemin hesitated before he straightened up, taking a step back and sitting down in front of Jonghyun, his legs outstretched, grazing Jonghyun’s ankles.  
Jonghyun shuffled slightly, also stretching his legs out on Taemin’s left side.

Tamein felt sweat dripping down his back, soaking the waistband of his pants, but he ignored it, chest still heavy as he tried to control his breathing, though he wasn't gasping for as much air as time went on.

“Taemin. Take time off, you deserve it. We have no comeback planned, you have time to sleep for a few days and then go back to work. A legend needs a break too.”

“Stop calling me a legend.”

“You are, you will be anyways.” Jonghyun reached out, squeezing Taemin’s knee. “I see that smile. You like it. A confidence boost you deserve.”

“I like it when you say I’m a legend, hyung, I appreciate it more because I respect you.”

“Just respect?” Jonghyun mumbled, turning his hand over, palm facing the ceiling, as Taemin reached out and squeezed his hand softly. Taemin's hand was warm, wet with seat, whilst Jognhyun's was cold, even his fingertips as icy as his palm. Taemin quickly retracted his hand when Jonghyun brushed his thumb over the back of Taemin’s hand.

“Here it’s respect.”

Taemin tapped his chest, lips tugging into a grin.

“But here, it’s different.”

“Say it out loud. Mean it.”

“I’ll say it out loud when I become a legend, then nobody will be in our way.”

“Just here, not in public. I don’t want you to ever be hated, not by anyone.”

“I feel the same way for you, hyung.”

Taemin smiled, tilting his head to the side, a dreamy look on his face as he and Jonghyun stared at each other. Taemin hesitated reached out again, fingers curling around Jonghyun's, the older boy squeezing softly, sending electric shock waves through Taemin's fingers, the tingling from dancing now replaced with a gentle buzz from the spark between the,

“Taeminie, you really are a legend to me at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the news on Monday. Stan twitter is a mess of people shouting and yelling and names being brought up and it’s triggering for a lot of people. I hope everyone is coping well. Eat. Sleep. Cry. Take a timeout. It’s okay. You’re not alone :))


	16. Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin gets himself and Kibum lost and he's stubborn, but stubborness is sometimes hot.

Kibum wasn't scared, his heart wasn't racing, he wasn't even jittering with nerves. Instead, his expression was soft, chest tight as he watched his boyfriend, Taemin's, face turn from joy, to amusement, to terror and then to stubbornness in the span of one hour.

They weren't lost. They were adapting, according to Taemin.

However, now, he'd been sat on a rock for an hour, waiting for Taemin to come up with a plan. His plan, which he'd repeated seventeen times now of turning around and going the way they came or even trying to make out somewhat of a path still went ignored.

Surrounding them were trees reaching for the clouds, leaves masked in autumn tints allowing only hits of sunlight through tiny gaps, sometimes more, attacking Kibum's vision, as tree branches gently swayed in the wind. A soft fluttering sound underneath birds gently singing were the only sounds echoing through the forest and, if they weren't as lost as they were, and Taemin's huffing and page turning was a silent appreciation for the organic sounds of the forest, Kibum would be at peace.

But, that wasn't the case.

Now, his softness towards Taemin had turned into slight annoyance and a wish to go back to the glamping site he wish he'd never left.

Kibum tutted when he saw Taemin turning the map upside down. He stood up, walking closer to Taemin, running his fingers through his slightly greasy brassy toned hair.

It had gone far enough.

“Taemin, babe, love of my life,” Kibum started. “We can go the way we came.”

Kibum's tone was slightly begging, but it was passed lunch, he wanted to go home before the sun went to bed and the moon caught up with them

“Kibum, don’t stress, I got this,” Taemin said, eyes focused solely on the map he had stretched out in front of him, a mess of green and beige shades that Kibum knew if he didn’t understand, Taemin didn’t have a clue.

Kibum rolled his eyes, tightening the straps on his backpack before he walked to Taemin and wrapped an arm around the others shoulders, fingers gently scratching the nearly neon yellow waterproof mac the younger boy had on. Kibum had a matching one on, more like a puffer jacket and slightly heavier, a grey jumper underneath the zipped coat and black baggy cargo pants hiking boots, Taemin wearing the same bottom half, but his lightweight mac was unzipped, revealing a camouflaged shirt underneath, smudges of cotton matching the map in front of them.

“Maybe they should make maps that give you actual directions, like turn at the biggest rock by the tree on your first left.”

“That’s stupid, rocks corrode,” Kibum countered. “Acid rain, kicked by hikers like us, they'll never be the same as they were before.”

“Hikers like us, like we do this regularly. This is the first time and we get lost.”

"Babe, who saw the squirrel?" Kibum asked, catching Taemin's eyes narrowing from the corner of his own. He rested his head against Taemin's, throat bubbling with laughter threatening to spill out.

Okay, maybe he was less annoyed now.

“We're not lost if we follow where we came from,” Kibum reassured Taemin, the other shrugging Kibum off and shaking his head, Kibum's words gone unheard once more.

Kibum rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Taemin zone in on the map, eyes flickering around the paper like he was watching a game of tennis.

“No service for phone GPS means we’ve got to rely on a map explaining landscapes instead of paths to take,” Taemin complained, eyes halting.

After a few seconds, Tmaein visibly deflated. Finally defeated. He closed the map, folding it away and sighing.

“Ah, Kibum, don’t worry, my mum always said that if you get lost, you head to the water and you'll be able to find your way.”

“The water?” Kibum repeated, taking the map from Taemin’s small hands and tucking it in the pocket on the side of the rucksack on his back, Taemin walking around Kibum and zipping it away safely. Although, losing the map wasn't really an issue when neither boy knew how to read it.

"I feel like that will only work at seaside towns, like go to the beach and you'll be able to find your hotel."

Taemin shook his head. "It could work in a forest, you don't know until you try."

“I don’t even hear a river and I feel like if we find a river that’ll be, like, the middle of the forest, or at least way further than amateurs should be going.”

“So we keep walking straight and we get out.”

Taemin made a move to start walking, but Kibum grabbed his wrist, squeezing tightly. He'd follow Taemin if the latter refused, but walking through a forest with nightfall approaching in a few hours was not how he wanted to spend his last few days of their holiday.

“The other side, Taemin, I’m not walking through a forest, let’s just turn around.”

Taemin hesitated, nose scrunching up, lips pursued into a small pout.

Kibum grinned. Finally, Taemin was giving in. He pulled Taemin closer, the younger boy dramatically groaning as Kibum took both of Taemin's hands in his own, Taemin's expression no longer resembling a moody child.

“You just want to be a hero out here, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Then, we agree to go back the way we came, but I’ll let you pick some berries or whatever, just no eating, pretend eating, I don't want you dying on me because I can't carry you back to the site.”

“You just want to go back to the glamping site, Kibum, come on, let's go on a real wilderness adventure.”

“I want to go back safe, but the thought of seeing Tarzan Taemin makes being lost worth it. You just have to be the hero and take us back now.”

Kibum let go of Taemin’s hands, cupping the others cheeks. Taemin's expression instantly softened as Key smoothed stray hairs away, tucking longer portions of naturally brown hair behind Taemin's ears. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed Taemin's lips softly. Taemin tilted his head to the side, pressing against Kibum slightly harder, the inside of his mouth stinging softly as he increased pressure against Kibum's lips. Kibum parted his lips slightly, biting at Taemin's, the younger boy taking a step closer, their coats rough against each other, a barrier so their chests didn't touch. Taemin’s nails gently scratched at Kibum’s puffer jacket as he trailed his fingers down to grip the hem of the yellow jacket. Kibum hummed, the sound vibrating against Taemin’s rosy lips. He bit slightly harder, until he felt vibrations from Taemin's voice against his own lips.

They both pulled away smiling, eyes twinkling underneath the glorious sunshine above them peeking through tree branches, almost spying on their somewhat secret embrace.

“Hiking’s fun if it involves making out in the woods,” Taemin murmured, laughing when Kibum pinched his cheeks.

“Key, come on! We’re lost, right? We should make out a little before we decide who eats who first.”

“I don’t want to eat you and I feel like if it came down to it, you’d make all those past threats a reality.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't eat you, that'd be creepy."

"So you'd maybe kill me for cannibalism and then not go through with the actual eating, amazing."

Kibum rolled his eyes, dropping his hands from Taemin's face, the younger boy still smiling, a dreamy look masked behind an unreadable expression.

"Still… can I back you into a tree trunk and give you more kisses?”

Kibum bit his bottom lip, tugging at it gently as Taemin reached for Kibum's hands and entwined their fingers, pushing gently so Kibum started moving backwards, twigs cracking under his feet as Taemin pushed him against a tree a few metres behind them. Well, he presumed it was a tree, the impact was sudden and it kind of hurt, but he didn't want to tear his gaze from Taemin's hungry eyes so he tried to ignore not knowing what was digging into his back uncomfortably and the scratching sound of the nylon fabric of his coat sliding against bark, probably ripping, but suddenly Taemin’s lips were against his and all he could do was close his eyes and melt against the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write a make out scene but I didn’t’ because 1. I’m a coward and 2. I’ve never wrote a hot make out scene before so maybe one day but for now quarter of a make out scene. Hope you enjoyed it lol.


	17. Ornament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum finds Minho's clown puppet terrifying, but it's sentimental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH DESCRIPTION*
> 
> So, if it makes you uncomfortable or it triggers you then please skip this chapter. I don’t want to upset or offend anyone.
> 
> You’ve been warned.

Kibum hummed against Minho’s chest, the vibrations tickling Minho’s bare skin.

Minho trailed the pads of his fingers up and down Kibum's back, scratching at his skin softly after a few seconds passed.

“What?” Minho asked.

“Nothing.”

“You made a noise. What’s wrong?”

Kibum pinched Minho’s arm, pushing himself to sit up, propping himself up by resting his elbows either side of Minho’s torso, his bare chest brushing Minho’s.

“You know how I moved in a couple of months ago?”

Minho’s expression faltered, but a smile was quickly plastered across his lips.

“If you want to go back, that’s okay. I won’t hold it against you, but you can stay until you find another place.”

“No, I don’t want to leave,” Kibum murmured, putting his weight on his left arm so he could use his right to sweep Minho’s soft brown hair from his chocolate coloured eyes, lips twitching into a smile when he saw Minho’s expression relaxing. They were close, heated bodies pressed against each other, their boxers being the only thing separating their bare skin. The light beside them flickered, a bulb that needed replacing, but it hadn't exploded yet so neither male made any effort to do said job.

“It’s nice here, I’ve made my own space.”

“Don’t I know it,” Minho mumbled, a smirk sweeping across Minho’s lips. “But I like it, your presence. It’s more homely. Decorated. Makes me feel proud when Jinki and Jonghyun come over.”

“Proud huh?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m adding to your ego, shit, I take back that comment. Carry on.”

Kibum nodded, fingers hesitating on Minho’s face.

“Um, not that I severely dislike your décor, but there are a few creepy things that need to go, if that’s okay? If it’s not, maybe locked away, but, like, they’re creepy and I don't think you want your boyfriend creeped out, as much as you love and hate me.”

“Make a list and I’ll get back to you. Some things might be important.”

Kibum nodded, glancing in front of Minho and himself, to the dark oak desk at the wall opposite his and Minho’s bed, before sighing and pushing himself up. Minho let shuffled away as Kibum set his pillows against his headboard and propped himself against the headboard, pillows now comfortably folded against his lower back. Minho staying lying down, but let his eyes flit up to Kibum, the other’s expression stern; lips pursed into a pout and eyes slightly narrowed. Minho's lips spread into a grin and he lifted a hand, fingers teasing Kibum's neck, the older boy squirming and slapping Minho's rough hands away from his skin.

“I’ll make a list, but there’s one main item really. The rest I can, probably, live with. Maybe not forever, but for now.”

“What do you hate?”

“That puppet, that creepy, lousy puppet that sits on your desk. Every night it stares at me and even when it’s dark I can still feel the gaze.”

Minho’s eyes went to the desk opposite the bed and he chuckled, voice gruff from speaking in hushed tones.

It was creepy, but that’s what made it special.

On his desk, sat a clown, its face plastic and dolled up in typical clown makeup, its costume an itchy pink cotton, plastic-y pink, pom pom material sprouting from its wrists and ankles. The clown was sat on a pink wooden swing, which was broken, so for years it’d been sat on his desk, eyeing Minho every day, silently begging to be fixed, but only being pushed to one side, a promise to fix it in the morning.

Minho pushed himself to sit up, Kibum instantly grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t go get it. I try to stay well away from it. When you’re not here I cover it with a blanket.”

“A blanket? It’s really that scary?”

“It really is, so don’t get it!”

“I’m not, don’t stress babe.”

Kibum groaned, squeezing Minho’s wrist, long nails slightly digging into Minho’s tanned skin.

Kibum's eyes focused on the clown on the desk, the fake light from the lamp on the bedside table casting a clownish shadow against the wardrobe and making the clown seem much more scarier than it should be.

“Can it go? Or live somewhere else?”

“I can fix it and put it back where it lives.”

“That’s better. Where does it live?”

“In the living room under the fireplace.”

Kibum grimaced, letting go of Minho's wrist and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Throw it out, and I’ll throw away something you don’t like. Compromises, right?”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Why?”

“It was a gift.”

Kibum glanced down at Minho, the younger boy barking out a laugh when he saw the eyebrow raised, the look of pure disgust written across Kibum's face.

“I’ll get you a new one. One that’s not creepy.”

“Irreplaceable gift, Key. Completely irreplaceable.”

Minho turned to face the clown, shuffling down and leaning into Kibum’s side, the other instantly wrapping his arms over Minho’s shoulder, gripping his hands over Minho’s chest as their heated skin touched.

“What kind of friend buys you a creepy ass clown?”

“It’s a joke, and not a friend, an ex-boyfriend. He bought it for me our first Christmas, told me he wanted to make sure I didn’t sleep at night.”

Key laughed, Minho shaking slightly form how hard he laughed.

“He sounds awful.”

“Maybe, but he… I mean, he was the only guy, besides you, that I loved.”

“Should I be jealous, hmm?”

Minho shook his head, lifting his hands and pulling Kibum’s apart so he could squeeze them softly.

Kibum felt Minho tense up so he quickly wrapped his arms tighter around Minho's body, bending his legs slightly so Minho was slightly cocooned in his hold.

After a few seconds of silence, Minho clicked his tongue.

“Taemin, he passed away. He was pretty sick all his life and when we met, he made it clear that he didn’t want an attachment because he was afraid of how it’d affect me, how his constant downward spirals would hurt me.”

“But you fell in love, obviously, you’re Choi Minho, you love a challenge.”

Minho nodded, but he didn’t laugh, Kibum focused his eyes on Minho, expression hardening at the sudden shift of tension in the atmosphere.

“It was good, amazing. He was amazing. He was funny, smart, pretty, kin, he was everything to me and we both fell hard. We were, like, completely inseparable, we had such a connection, Kibum, like you and I have, like he really was my soulmate.”

Minho's voice was warm, a hint of bitterness, or regret under his tone, so Kibum squeezed Minho's hands gently, silently telling him he was okay, he was safe to continue.

“After, um, about two years, he got sick so he was in hospital, in and out for a few months and then one day the Doctors wouldn’t let him come home so he had to stay there.”

“Until he died?”

Minho nodded and Kibum caught sight of Minho's eyes shining in the light from the lamp on the bedside table.

“It was awful, what it did to him, he had a complete breakdown, always yelling at me to leave, yelling at me to forget about him because he was going to die anyways, but I-I-I spent my entire life with him, that’s what it felt like, so I couldn’t just leave him alone so I just sat outside his room and waited until visiting hours were over, went home, and did the same thing.”

“Did he let you see him?”

Again, Minho nodded, this time the hold he had on Kibum's hand was loose, as though he was putting all of his strength into telling the story. However, the rest of his body was tense, guarded, ready to fight.

“Eventually. It lasted… lasted a few weeks, before he did, and the nurses refused to let me in. They alwyas looked so upset when they turned me away, but it was Taemin's decision so they couldn't argue, so I didn’t see him at all. When I could finally go in it was… he was…” Minho trailed off, squeezing Kibum’s hands hand.

“A different person?” Kibum gently asked, kissing Minho’s forehead softly.

“Completely. He was all skin and bones and he didn’t smile anymore. He looked so sad and lost and I just wanted to bundle him up and take him home, tell him I was going to make everything better, but they wouldn’t let me. He didn’t talk to me anymore, just lay there and stared outside so I just talked, told him stories, talked about memories he knew about, because the silence was unbearable.”

His voice was bitter, like a cup of coffee with no sugar.

“After a while he started answering, but he always mumbled and I-I knew, I saw it in his eyes. He’d given up and he was ashamed of giving up, that’s why he didn’t want to speak to me anymore. The guilt had eaten him alive and I couldn’t make it better. It’s… Kibum, it’s weird, it’s like we both knew when he was going to die that night so we snuck out.”

“Always the bad boy.”

“He was the bad boy.”

“I bet it was your plan really.”

Minho’s lips twitched slightly, but they didn’t turn into a smile.

“Maybe..."

Minho's voice sounded broken, like a lost boy without a home.

"Taemin just stared at me and he never cried, not once, not even when things were getting tough, but I saw his eyes shining and he just said that he wanted to go home, so I took him home. We saw a nurse and she saw us, but she just turned around, like a silent agreement that I was doing the right thing. I’m thankful to her for doing that, for giving us that and, um…” Minho trailed off, voice cracking.

He cleared his throat, a few gentle whines leaving his closed mouth, trying to speak, but the lump in his throat obviously stopping him.

"It's okay," Kibum murmured. "You're okay."

Minho exhaled shakily, bringing his hands Kibum's hands to his mouth, his breath hot against Kibum's otherwise cool hands. After Minho calmed his breathing, he lowered his and Kibum's hands back to his firm chest.

“I just took him home, Kibum and even though he passed away that night, it felt okay, he felt okay, like we both knew he was safe now.”

“Still not over it?” Kibum asked, nuzzling the skin behind Minho’s ear and kissing the back of his head gently.

“It’s not something I’ll ever be over. I still love him, I still think about him, but he told me to get a fucking life and have sex.”

Key smiled against Minho's head, hair tickling his face. “I think I would have liked Taemin a lot. Maybe not if he were your boyfriend but maybe in another life.”

“He was an angel, Kibum, sometimes a devil, but he was an angel really, my angel.”

“You’ll have to show me pictures, let me see my competition.”

“I still love you,” Minho reassured Kibum, tilting his head back so he and Kibum could lock eyes. “I wouldn’t ever compare you to him or visa versa. It's completely different love, but just as strong.”

Kibum pulled his right hand from Minho’s grip, cupping Minho’s cheek, the pad of his thumb running across Minho's eye gently, wiping away the tears brimming his waterline.

“Thank you for telling me this, I can't begin to understand how you must feel, but I'll always be here to at least make you feel somewhat happier.”

Minho closed his eyes, body relaxing as Kibum gently stroked his face.

"And the creepy clown?”

Kibum smiled. “Fix it and put it back where it’s supposed to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always kill off my bias?


	18. Misfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin's tired and Kibum's skipping class.

“Hey cutie.”

Kibum looked up from his phone, scowling.

“Yah, Taemin, don’t call me cute.”

“Adorable then?” Taemin asked.

A smile graced Taemin’s lips as he sat beside Kibum, who straightened his back so Taemin could lie down, back against the concrete floor of the roof and head nestled on Kibum’s warm lap, thighs rough from scratchy black denim that Kibum always got told off for wearing. Taemin closed his eyes as Kibum set a hand in his hair, Kibum’s painted deep red nails gently scratching his scalp whilst pulling on platinum blonde locks. Kibum set his phone beside them and his other hand on Taemin’s stomach, fingers tickling the part of his stomach peeking out from under the younger boy’s tight school shirt.

Taemin laughed slightly.

“Ah, it tickles, stop moving your fingers.”

“I’m not a statue, I can’t help it,” Kibum murmured, his voice sweet as he drummed his fingers purposefully on Taemin’s bare skin.

Kibum focused his cat-like gaze on Taemin’s face, the weight on his lap increasing as Taemin relaxed tense muscles.

Taemin moved his legs, leather shoes tapping along the floor. It was a twitch he couldn’t get rid of, but Kibum found it cute, like a dog kicking his legs for a pet. Kibum slowed down his hands in Taemin’s hair, humming softly for a few seconds before focusing on the nearly silent atmosphere, the only sound being the soft murmur and sometimes louder shouter of kids playing outside the school.

“I’m skipping P.E for a nap,” Taemin said as though he were reading Kibum’s thoughts.

“Skipping school to study.”

“That makes no sense,” Taemin complained, scrunching his nose when a beam of light shined directly at him, Kibum shuffling slightly, leaning forward so he casted a shadow over Taemin’s face.

“I have a test Friday.”

“Bad boy skipping class and studying, that’s stupid. You have to say ah, Taeminie, I was waiting for you so we could skip and make out. Not only does that sound better, but it makes your bad boy image way hotter.”

Kibum rolled his eyes, trailing his fingers up Taemin’s white shirt and pulling gently on his tie, loosening it, before undoing the younger boy’s top two buttons, giving Taemin room to breathe instead of the choking feeling from the school shirts he knew all too well. His own tie was tucked away in his locker, an excuse of a swollen throat always on his lips.

He was sure the teachers didn't believe him anymore, but eventually they'd stopped asking and he was quiet in class, when he wasn't skipping, so there was no need to stir up a ruckus.

“Nimble fingers, Key?”

“It’s from practice unbuttoning your pants with one hand,” Kibum retorted, laughing when Taemin grabbed his wrist, pulling Kibum’s hands back down and sneaking the older boy’s hand up his shirt.

“Taemin, stop it, I’m not having sex with you on a roof.”

“Maybe when you graduate.”

“I don’t want to go to prison for indecent exposure.”

Taemin let go of Kibum’s hand, clasping both of his hands together, Kibum pulling his hand back so only his fingers were under Taemin’s cotton shirt.

“I could a hundred percent go for making out, but you look exhausted, so we’ll save it for after school.”

Kibum slowly pulled his fingers through Taemin’s hair, trailing them down Taemin’s face so he could cup the boy’s cheek, brushing a thumb under the dark smudges around Taemin’s closed eyes.

“Are you not sleeping at home?”

“Studying. Big test Friday.”

“Don’t mock me.”

Taemin grinned, blinking slow so he could look Kibum in the eyes.

“Not mocking, babe, same test, but unlike you who skips school to study, I skip sleep to study.”

“And P.E?”

“P.E isn’t a lesson. My parents said I can skip P.E all I want as long as I study.”

“Ah, my poor Taemin working hard. You’ll ace it. You’re the smartest dude I know.”

“You’ll ace it, if you tried.”

“Gotta keep up a rep. I don’t want straight A’s, just a passing grade. The minute I get straight A’s, the more teachers pester and then so do my parents and then they’ll probably move me out of the dorms so I can focus. I like how it is now, free.”

Taemin’s lips weren’t smiling, but curled upwards, warming is pale face, not meeting his eyes, but softening his expression.

“I should have met you before I started high school, taken a leaf out of your book.”

Kibum shook his head. “Nope. You have to be an A star student so you can get a good job and support me.”

“Support you, hmm? You’re older? Shouldn’t you be the sugar daddy?”

Taemin licked his lips before Kibum trailed the pad of his thumb over Taemin’s wet lips, Taemin biting the thumb softly; laughing when Kibum squeezed his bottom lip gently.

“’bumie.”

“Hmm?”

Kibum let go of Taemin’s lip, leaving his hand gently resting on the younger boy’s soft cheek.

“I’m so tired lately and I know it’s just tests, that the real exams aren’t here yet, but lately I can barely concentrate.”

“Skipping sleep is stupid, Taemin. Nothing goes in your brain, so the hours of studying turn into mush.”

“I know, don’t shout at me, or chastise me.”

Kibum tilted his head to the side, lips pursed as Taemin shifted his gaze to the sky, flickering to Kibum’s face a few times.

Taemin had been working hard, too hard.

Recently, he’d slipped up, gotten a grade lower than an A, still passing, but now leaving his record tarnished; unbalanced. Kibum still remembers the tears staining Taemin’s cheeks, the sheer panic in his tone as he stayed after class, begging the teacher for extra credit, for anything that would fix his broken record. The teacher was kind, told him to calm down, let Kibum stay with him in the classroom, alone, away from the few students dotting the corridors.

Kibum held Taemin’s hand, their relationship still fresh and innocent, so Kibum jumped to conclusions.

_“Your parents shouldn’t push you so much. It's breakign my heart to see you like this."_

Taemin had turned his head to look at him, brows furrowed, eyes puffy and slightly wrinkled, face flushed, tears twinkling in the fake lighting above them.

After a few seconds, his expression softened and he smiled through the tears, a laugh bubbling from his throat as he used his free hand to cup Kibum’s cheek.

_“’bumie, it’s not them. They love me. They’ll love me no matter what. It’s me. It’s my mind. You don’t want to think what I think.”_

Kibum had so many questions on the tip of his tongue, but then Taemin leaned in and when their lips met, his mind went blank.

The pressure of the kiss was gentle, Taemin clumsily pulling back an inch after a few seconds, hot air from heavy breathing tormenting his lips. Taemin had choked slightly, the lump in his throat still evident. He lifted his hand, apologised let go of Kibum's hand and grabbed a tissue to blow his nose.

_"Gross.”_

Taemin smiled at that, teeth shining, the heavy atmosphere now airy.

It wasn’t sparks igniting, just two boys solidifying their feelings in a messy kiss.

“Do you know what you should do?”

“What?” Taemin asked, eyes going back to Kibum’s face, squinted slightly as he waited with bated breath for Kibum to speak.

“Move to the dorms.”

Taemin tutted, expression relaxing.

“That’s a waste of money. I live, like, five minutes away.”

“Too much pressure for your brain. You need to develop not only your brain, but, like, maturity, you know? Grow up without your parents breathing down your neck.”

“They don’t, I’ve told-”

“Then grow up with someone able to stop the demons from breathing down your neck.”

Taemin’s lips were open from being cut off and Kibum heard his breathing hitch slightly, but Taemin quickly played it off, smirking.

“You just want to fuck me in the dorms.”

Kibum dropped his eyes to his hand on Taemin’s stomach, fingers playing with the hem of Taemin’s shirt.

The questions were drifting in the air, but he was too much of a coward to ask them, afraid of starting an argument.

“Sex with you is good.”

“Very good.”

“Consider it,” Key whispered, eyes drifting back to Taemin’s face. “Seriously.”

“Not today, or tomorrow, right now I just need to get the Friday test over with and then sleep.”

“Have your nap then and after school we can have a dorm room date.”

“That’s a great plan.”

“No studying, just sleeping. Real life is way off, Taemin. For now, just worry about getting good grades. If you don’t use them, you’ll always have them.”

“Maybe, but I…" Taemin trailed off, chewing on his lip. "Kibum, when you graduate, don’t forget about me”?

Kibum's face relaxed, eyes half closed, almost dreamy as he watched Taemin gently gnaw at his lip.

“Never. I just have to wait another year and then, if you’re still so confused, we can run away.”

“Run away?” Taemin repeated, eyes slipping shut, teeth back in his mouth, hiding. “Ah, that sounds stupid. Running away from our problems.”

“Like a cliché?”

“The biggest.”

Kibum leaned down, kissing Taemin’s forehead, lips delicate like taking a sip from a freshly made cut of tea. Slow and careful. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, they're both of legal age, don't make this fic wierd, thnx


	19. Sling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin gets hurt and Jonghyun's jumps to conclusions.

Jonghyun wasn’t a worrier, he drifted through life in a buzz of coffee and pastries.

Don’t judge him.

The life of a struggling musician was cheap and since he hadn’t hit it big, the only money in his bank were the scraps left after paying rent so coffee and pastries were the only items in his budget. He’d told his boyfriend, Taemin, multiple times that if they lived together, they’d have more money, but Taemin pretended to be deaf whenever the subject was brought up.

Late night snuggles cocooned in a nest of pillows, a heated body against his own was enough to keep him happy, even if it only exaggerated the amount of money he wasted on rent when he spent half his time over at Taemin’s apartment.

Amongst the warm buzz, Taemin was a chaotic cloud of fog.

Jonghyun appreciated his boyfriend’s presence, appreciated it more when Taemin didn’t disappear for days on end, but Taemin was hooked like a drug when it came to inspiration and Jonghyun knew what that felt like. As long as Taemin kept on returning with apologies skittering off his tongue and a bunch of blooming flowers in hand, he knew Taemin’s feelings were just as strong as his.

This was one of those weeks, however.

Taemin had been ghosting Jonghyun for a week.

Jonghyun was willing to wait until midnight signalled day eight, but a few hours before the clock hands hit twelve, alarm bells went off.

Taemin had called him at seventeen minutes passed ten, shouting nonsense, the noise of sirens in the background. He tried to talk, to get answers, but the call cut off at the sound of a bang, metal hitting metal, probably Taemin’s clumsy fingers losing grip on his phone.

Jonghyun felt his heart skip a beat, like someone had thrown a stone at his glass house of ignorance.

He didn’t run to Taemin’s studio, didn’t run to Taemin’s apartment, he went straight to the hospital, uncaring of if Taemin wasn’t in there, because he didn’t want Taemin to be there, he wanted to be wrong, to be jumping to conclusions, to be a clown, to look back on this moment and laugh.

When he got to the hospital, his pace slowed down as he collapsed at reception, breathing panting, words stuck in his throat; sweat beading on his forehead, staining the back and arms of his white shirt hidden by his blue denim jacket.

“Jonghyun.”

The man spun, bright red doc martins squeaking against pale grey floor as his eyes scanned the room, eyes landing on a familiar face.

“Jinki!” Jonghyun shouted, voice wavering when he saw Jinki’s stern expression. Jinki handed a female nurse a clipboard before he started walking to Jonghyun.

“Jinki tell me I’m being an idiot and you have no idea why I’m here,” Jonghyun begged eyes wide, black eyeliner smudged in his lash line from tears brimming in his eyes, lips quivering.

“Taemin came in,” Jinki said when he got to Jonghyun, stopping in front of the other, a small smile gracing his lips, expression soft.

“The-The call?” Jonghyun asked, throat raw and muscles trembling from adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“He’s okay,” Jinki reassured his friend, setting his hand on Jonghyun’s arm and rubbing gently. “Come on, I’ll take you to see him.”

“What happened?”

“He fell at dance practice,” Jinki said as he trailed his hand to Jonghyun’s lower back, guiding the man down the hall. “Dislocated shoulder.”

“I called and called because he phoned me shouting and-”

“It was an accident,” Jinki interrupted, pushing a door open as he and Jonghyun entered the busy ward, blue curtains at every corner against bright white walls, almost like office cubicles.

“He told me, when he came in, to call you, said that he’d done it, but not properly.”

“An accident?”

“He said he called you because he wanted to tell you what was going on, but then the ambulance hit a bump and that’s when the pain really set in because he started tussling and then he dropped his phone. The crew said he was a tough patient after they gave me his smashed phone.”

Jinki put a hand in his pocket, handing Jonghyun the phone, screen cracked.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Jonghyun asked, taking the phone and slipping it into the back pocket of his black denim jeans.

“He’s just kind of out of it.”

Jinki stopped in front of a half open curtain, hesitating.

“I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Jonghyun said, breathing still shaky.

Jinki smiled gently, head tilted slightly to the side, bangs falling over his eyes. He moved his hand from Jonghyun’s back, gently squeezing his hand.

“Be calm, he’s okay. I got to get back to work now, so no arguing, or making out.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Jonghyun said, glancing at Jinki before he walked behind the curtain, Jinki closing them behind him.

Jonghyun gently sighed, heart beating quicker, but muscles he hadn’t known he’d been clenching relaxing as he took in his sight of a sleepy Taemin tucked under the hospital covers, propped up by the bent hospital bed. He was wearing his own clothes, grey sweatpants and pale blue shirt, some parts dark from sweat, probably dancing. His left arm was in a sling, his right free, fingers gently stroking the cotton sheets on the hospital bed. Taemin's eyes were focused on the blue cotton under him, blinking hard and eyebrows twitching every few seconds.

The world around him came to a halt, the millions of pieces of shattered glass slowly reducing into amendable chunks

“Baby,” Jonghyun murmured, walking closer to Taemin, the younger boy humming, eyes rolling before they landed on Jonghyun, the man sitting on the bed, on the side where Taemin's arm wasn't resting in a sling.

“Are you okay? Jinki says you fell?”

“I got tired and then boom. I hit the floor.”

Taemin relaxed against the bed, breathing deep and even.

“You okay now?”

“Just a little out of it. When’s the hot Doctor coming back?”

Jonghyun rolled his eyes. “Jinki, babe, maybe a hot Doctor, but mostly our best friend.”

“I think I’m gonna ask for his number, Jjongie,” Taemin said, ignoring his boyfriend as he shifted his gaze to the curtains, the bustle of people working signalling a world outside of their bubble.

“Get in there, babe. Live your iconic polyamorous lifestyle.”

“Hmm, thank you, I will with your blessing.”

Jonghyun sighed, smiling gently as he took in Taemin’s dazed out appearance.

“Shit, Taemin, do you have any idea how scared I was? I wanted to be an idiot running to the hospital, but then I saw Jinki waiting and for a minute I swear I thought you were dead.”

“I’m just sleepy, not dead.”

“I know, but I was terrified, Taemin you didn’t contact me for a week, what was I supposed to think? You could-"

Jonghyun hummed, cutting his talking off and dropping his eyes to the navy sling on Taemin’s left arm.

“I was just scared, I’ll shout at you later, right now I just want to be happy you’re safe.”

Taemin squeezed Jonghyun’s hands, blinking slow as he focused his dazed gaze on Jonghyun’s face.

“You know what I’m scared of?”

“No, what?”

“Moving in with you.”

Jonghyun smiled against Taemin’s fingers.

“So am I.”

“When we get out of here, and I’m back to grouchy Taemin, will you just move your stuff into my apartment.”

“Even if it makes you mad?”

Taemin nodded slowly. “I think I’ll be happy, even if I don’t say it, but only if we ask the hot Doctor for a threesome."

Jonghyun dropped his and Taemin's hand to his lap, focusing on his boyfriend's pretty face, giggling when Taemin looked at him, lips pursed and brows furrowed as though one wrong word would start a bratty meltdown.

Jonghyun wasn't a worrier, because even though the glass sometimes shatters, just the mere sight of Taemin set his once shattered glass house up for reconstruction.


	20. Tread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun reminisces on the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic goes with swing, but not totally, just tender love that’s all you need to take from this uwu.
> 
> Also, I wrote this short piece listening to I'm Sorry from Story OP1, so if you want to set a mood, then listen to it as you read it, or listen to I'm Sorry separately and appreciate the entire artwork that is Story OP1 and 2 <3

Jonghyun met Jinki, his now husband, when he was sixteen, Jinki being seventeen, on a late night in a rundown park.

Jinki had been on the swings, singing softly to himself, legs swinging as the metal frame creaked above him. Jonghyun squinted trying to focus on Jinki’s face under the iridescent blinking of the street lamps. It made it almost impossible to make Jinki out completely, especially at such a distance away, but Jonghyun could piece together parts of his face.

Soft and warm, slightly chubby cheeks like a squirrel hiding nuts.

Adorable.

Jonghyun had left, not wanting to disturb the other, but late Summer evenings quickly turned into walks by the empty park, always catching a glimpse of a boy, slightly older than himself, singing softly, words drifting along the wind like birds. After a few weeks, Jonghyun knew the older male had wised up to what he’d been doing. Even in the dark evenings, seeing a stranger pass by an otherwise silent park wasn’t easy to forget

Jinki had called Jonghyun over when he’d seen Jonghyun skulking at the entrance of the park for the third week in a row. Jonghyun was hesitant to disturb the once stranger, but Jinki’s voice melted like butter on a pan so he couldn’t resist.

_“Don’t worry your parents. Go home.”_

_“Hyung, shouldn’t you go home too? Or are you homeless? I always see you here, alone.”_

Jinki had smiled and from such a close up, Jonghyun had the perfect sight of Jinki’s face and his heart clenched at the sight of barely squinted eyes and wide, gummy smile. Jonghyun had to drop his gaze, promise Jinki he’d go home in fear of staring at his Medusa for too long.

The next day, Jonghyun joined Jinki, the older boy still singing, Jonghyun now silent company to his new found friend.

Unvoiced swing set rendezvous turned into dates in town, walking hand in hand, not flaunting their relationship to passersby, but relishing in the spark that connected their hands.

Thankfully, when rumours spread, both of their parents respected their decisions and although neither sets really came to terms with having gay sons, they didn’t argue, they didn’t split them up, they took a step back and let the two boy’s take control. There approval wasn’t evident, but neither was the hate, so Jonghyun and Jinki both considered themselves lucky their parents loved them until the end.

After the second year, Jonghyun thought the relationship would turn stale, the feelings numb and he was terrified of falling out of love, but Jinki never failed burst his stomach into a fleet of butterflies with one smile directed his way.

_“Let’s just be happy for as long as we can.”_

At the tender age of twenty-three Jonghyun showed Jinki a picture of an empty store, no question, just a knowing look glinting in his eye as Jinki looked at the phone, puzzled before teary eyes went to Jonghyun and he smiled.

Jinki and Jonghyun secured the empty store using money saved up from inheritance of deceased family. It was a jump into the wind and although the empty flat above the store was cold, Jinki’s fingers knew how to warm up Jonghyun’s icy skin.

They turned the store into a bakery, a bright yellow front to match Jinki’s personality with their names written in bold font, i’s dotted with smiley faces because Jonghyun thought it’d look cute. It didn’t, but Jinki’s laugh was enough to persuade him to not paint over them.

Inside the bakery, corners were filled with fake green plants (but the expensive kind, so the plastic didn’t shine under bubbles of light in the ceiling) leaves trailing up to the ceiling, wrapping around unpainted metal bars to give it a softer industrial look. The walls were painted white, the room spacious enough for a dozen or so wooden chairs, all painted different colours, and glass tables to grace the polished hardwood floor, whilst the glass counter hid away freshly made cakes. Baskets of breaded goods joined the array of sweet cakes behind the glass counter.

The business was slow, but profitable and it gave Jonghyun time to focus on his passion: music.

Jonghyun lit up the bakery with his voice, a few square feet of lifted flooring him to spend his days singing, attracting more people until the bakery became a bustling hit famous for Jonghyun’s voice and Jinki’s sticky buns.

Life was good, but when Jonghyun turned thirty, Jink lost his smile.

He was involved in a car incident. He couldn’t work anymore. Wheelchair bound. Not completely paralysed, but his left arm and left leg numb, making walking for long periods of time almost in possible. Jinki tried physical therapy, but he gave up quickly when walking didn’t come fast enough and Jonghyun’s heart was smashed, so he couldn’t push his boyfriend, couldn’t give him the encouragement he desperately needed.

Jinki lost passion, his face always pale, lips down turned, even when Jonghyun begged him to just sit and give Jonghyun instructions Jinki's voice remained silent, his smile lost, the twinkle in his eyes now dull.

The sweet smell of sugar left the air, replaced by bitter whiffs of burnt bread as Jonghyun tried to make it work.

But in the end, the bakery took a hit.

Jonghyun didn’t have the passion to sing, Jinki’s baskets lay empty and soon Jonghyun shut the doors permanently, tears spilling from his eyes as he angrily erased their names at the store front with a line of red paint.

_“I’m sorry.”_

Jinki’s voice sounded pained, also full of cracks, but Jonghyun couldn’t help him fill in the cracks, not when his heart was filled with as many holes.

They rarely left the flat, Jonghyun taking over in caring for his boyfriend, Jinki’s days spent silent, watching the world carry on without them from the deep purple chair by the window. His eyes were lifeless and Jonghyun lost the will to carry on, instead spending his time in bed, sleeping, crying, praying for someone to make Jinki better, but Jinki stayed where he was, dependent on Jonghyun.

Nothing changed for half a year, until one day Jonghyun got up to help Jinki, the older boy shouting that he needed help getting into his wheelchair, and he walked in on Jinki finally out of his chair, wobbling as he walked to Jonghyun like a new-born deer, knuckles white as he leaned his entire weight onto the cane in his right hand.

His steps were small and after a few he fell, muscles weak from not being used in months, but Jonghyun was there to soften the fall and whilst Jonghyun was able to catch him, it was Jinki that was the one who cradled Jonghyun as he sobbed.

They lay on the floor for hours, Jonghyun bundled in Jinki’s arms, Jinki’s shirt wet from snot and tears.

_“We have to get better, Jonghyun. We’re not quitters.”_

Jinki's voice was still cold, completely lost, but he was trying and Jonghyun was desperate to drink in the sight of a sickly sweet smile.

Jonghyun pushed harder Jinki, his heart swelling with joy every time Jinki accomplished another step, giddy from the joy radiating of Jinki when he finally made it down to the bakery. Jinki sat, commanding Jonghyun on every step, no matter how small, and a few days of endless practising, Jinki didn’t need to help, instead he sang softly as Jonghyun filled baskets of stick buns, his sweet voice now replacing Jonghyun’s.

They hadn’t discussed it before, but lonely days in bed after hours of working turned into a need for noise, so the next year they set about adopting and two years later, after a sign on at the registry office, nobody but strangers to bare witness, since their family had long since left the world, they were blessed with a bratty toddler named Taemin.

Jinki’s steps were still unsteady, but his face had finally bloomed into a sunflower.

Now, fifty-three years had gone by and although the bakery had closed its doors for the second time, Jinki’s chair by the window now unoccupied, Jonghyun wasn’t regretful, wasn’t remorseful, he was thankful to have been the one that ignited the fire that lit Jinki's smile.


	21. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun, Taemin and Kibum are stranded on an island after a hunt for treasure goes wrong.

Jonghyun, Kibum and Taemin had sailed their ship across every parts of the ocean that had been discovered, some, maybe not, but nobody had brains in this age, so people refused to listen to the tales of three adventurers, or, in the townspeople’s opinions: pirates.

They’d docked at a small town, bustling with trade, where their crew had time to rest and eat, a total of seventeen people, not including the three captains. It was small, and the trust was lacking, but finding trustworthy pirates to join forces with was an impossible task.

Taemin was content, tucked away safe, on land, but at the giddy skitters from Jonghyun and Kibum one late afternoon, utterances of treasure and a real-life adventure, they’d dragged Taemin and their crew into months sailing on the ocean the very next day.

After the first month, Taemin discovered that Jonghyun and Kibum were lost.

The maps were wrong, the captains blaming it on moving rocks, Taemin too worried about the churning in his stomach to get mad, so instead, whilst Jonghyun and Kibum searched for a way out, he went to the deck to help the crew.

After a month and a half, the water supply was low, no filters on the ship, so Taemin resorted to giving out murky water, drinking it in front of the crew, hoping to combat some sense of trust. The crew were dehydrated; days away from fighting back, but with nowhere to go and nobody else willing to take over, they remained silent, slightly more on the edge, but still willing to join their three captains in their voyage.

Two months signalled the middle of summer, sun scorching down on their ship, now floating aimlessly through the water as the crew quit, too weak from undernourishment to continue even if they tried - some stealing the few boats tied on deck and sailing away in the moonlight, Taemin watching, but not ratting them out no matter how much Jonghyun and Kibum begged.

Ten crew members remained.

Taemin now slept with the sick crew under deck, Jonghyun and Kibum lonely upstairs in their quarters as Taemin focused on helping the sick, his stomach still churning like the waves below them. He wasn't sick and neither were his partners so he let guilt eat away at him as he tried to make peace and save the last few crew members who didn't sign up to die, they only signed up to make money.

At month three the crew were dying.

Starvation, illness, dehydration, there were many options.

Jonghyun and Kibum told Taemin he couldn’t visit them, told Taemin that they were close, that they’d dock and get help.

That night, mother nature had enough of their lies and sent a storm their way.

Literally.

A summers evening turned into a tropical storm in moments.

Grey clouds hid the mood from view, waves now black, almost like tar hitting the side of the boat harder and faster. Rain pelted against the deck, the crew suddenly given the power of a man with a full belly, he reality of dying to hard for them to bear. The three captains and the crew slipped across the deck, hurrying aloft ladders to secure the mast and loosen or tighten the riggings, shouting orders, screaming at everyone to keep moving, that the island was within touching distance.

It took one wave to knock the ship upside down.

Taemin was familiar with drowning.

As an adult, his first swimming lesson with Jonghyun didn’t go to plan so drowning didn’t scare him, he knew what to expect: the feeling of water filling his lungs, arms becoming numb, mind fuzzy as he drifted. He waited for the feeling as he tackled the waves, heart beating out of his chest at the thought of what lurked below the water.

However, this time was different.

He couldn’t breathe, the frothy waves battling against him every time he snuck up for air, but his limbs moved, swam, his mind remained sand. The churning in his stomach now exaggerated as he desperately swam, the water seeming to get less deeps until his shoes scuffed at jagged stones.

Taemin gasped, breathless as he crawled onto a sandy banking, pools of wet seaweed becoming his bed as waves reached only to his toes.

His eyes slipped shut and he let out a breath, body finally numb.

Taemin blinked slow, the sound of waves crashing against a sandy beach filling his ears. He lifted his hands, arms weighed down by soggy clothes, and rubbed his eyes, wincing as sand scratched his face and salty water stung his eyes. Mouthfuls of salty water left a bitter taste on his tongue and a burning sensation down his throat. He choked slightly, droplets of water splashing back into his face, some landing on burning lips and, desperate for any form of hydration, Taemin licked his plump lips, gulping hard, the lump in his throat nearly making him choke again.

“You…”

A cough followed by a sigh.

“Taemin, you okay?”

Taemin looked to the side, muscles relaxing when he saw Jonghyun and Kibum crawling over to him.

He pushed himself to sit up, muscles stiff, shouting when he moved his ankle.”

“Ah fuck!” He complained reached out to his ankle, Kibum stopping at his feet, whilst Jonghyun crawled around Taemin, to his left side.

“Let me see,” Kibum whispered, voice scratchy as he pulled Taemin’s shoe off, Taemin tensing his body, trying not to cry out even as tears pricked in his eyes, from the sea water? Maybe not.

Taemin exhaled shakily, chest moving slow as he calmed his breathing, focused his mind on Kibum’s hands as they set his shoe to the side, focused on the sound of waves, pretended that they were on a beach in a foreigner’s country, pretended-

“You fuckers!” Taemin yelled, kicking Kibum with the foot that wasn’t hurt.

Kibum glanced up before he shook his head, expression solemn. He was soaking, just like Jonghyun, their clothes covered in itchy grains of sand. Kibum’s eyes were red, slightly swollen, a rash maybe. Taemin felt his own eyes still stinging form when he’d rubbed them so he knew his looked the same. Taemin glanced at Jonghyun. His eyes were fine, but he was always the one with all the luck: always the gambler.

“You’re very lucky a shark didn’t bite your leg off,” Jonghyun said, Taemin’s bruised ankle coming into his sights when Kibum peeled away his wet sock.

“Lucky!” Taemin yelled, yelping when Kibum pressed on his ankle too hard. “You call this lucky! You and Jonghyun are stupid, I told you to leave the ship docked, but no, one mention of treasure and suddenly we have to sail across the ocean. Greedy fuckers, that’s what you are. And, did I warn you about a storm a million times?”

Taemin reached out, Jonghyun grabbing his wrists before his hands could reach Kibum.

“Ow, shit, fuck, this is your fault! Now we’re going to die here and you’re going to be the last people I see. Jesus, I wish the fucking ocean drowned the both of you two! Always ignorant and- Key, asshole! Stop it!”

Kibum loosened his tight hold on Taemin’s ankle.

“You done shouting then?” Kibum asked, setting both his hands either side of Taemin’s ankle.

“I’m mad,” Taemin muttered. “You never listen to me. It’s always, ah, Taemin and his weird senses, but they’ve never been completely right before, well, fuck you, because this time I was right.”

Taemin pulled one of his hands from Jonghyun’s grip, tapping his chest hard.

“I feel it here and I always tell you.”

“You’ve never been spot on before.”

“But when I get a feeling something always happens. We could have died, Key, Jjong, _I_ could have died because of _your_ greed.”

“We’re sorry,” Jonghyun mumbled, kissing Taemin’s fingers, the younger boy pulling his hand from the others grip and rubbing it gently as though trying to wash off Jonghyun’s touch.

Jonghyun sighed, lying down, basking in the bright sun beating hot rays against his body, wet clothes heating up uncomfortably against his skin and gritty sand chaffing his already flushed skin.

Taemin looked back, a forest of trees behind him. Coconut water, hopefully lurking amongst the mass of greenery.

“We won’t die,” Kibum said, Taemin looking back at Kibum before he looked out on the ocean: silent as though waiting for the three men to make their next move.

Kibum slowly let go of Taemin’s foot. “No moving, okay? Otherwise we’ll have to cut your foot off.”

“It’s the muscle that hurts. No marks, so a shark didn’t try and eat it whole.”

“We can always cut his foot off and eat it,” Jonghyun offered.

“You may be down to nibbling on Taemin’s toes, but that’s gross.”

Kibum set Taemin’s shoes beside them before he crossed his legs and reached out, Taemin rolling his eyes, but also reaching out so Kibum could hold his hands. He was trembling, Kibum’s hands surprising still, though calmness was in the older Captain’s nature.

Captain? Maybe not anymore. No ship. No crew. No hope.

Kibum squeezed Taemin’s hands tightly, dirty nails digging into the back of the younger boy’s hands.

“Sorry for ignoring you, but it’s not just about pirates searching for treasure, we were told that it was different.”

Taemin perked up, eyes flitting to Kibum’s face before he looked back at his bruised ankle.

“Mysterious?” Taemin asked.

“Kind of. No money, just a gift.”

“A gift? Like mystical shit?”

“Exactly.”

“We were intrigued,” Jonghyun muttered, nudging Taemin’s hip with his hand. “Not greedy fuckers.”

“You’ve still gotten us stranded on a deserted island.”

Kibum grinned. “Ah, but what didn’t we tell you?”

“What?”

“Stormy weathers may secure you a place on the path to treasure. Only the wilful will survive, be tested, be patient, be ready,” Jonghyun whispered.

Taemin swallowed, throat raw, begging for water.

He licked chapped lips, the churning in his stomach like a bustle of bees around a beehive.

“So, we’re meant to be here?”

“Maybe, but…” Jonghyun trailed off, glancing at Kibum, the other focused on Taemin’s face, before he looked at Taemin, the boy looking at him, eyes wide, twinkling under the sunlight. “What else are we doing, Tae? Sailing the seas like bandits with a crew that would betray us in a heartbeat.”

“They were still our crew.”

Jonghyun shook his head. “They trusted us because we made money and gave them fair pay. Remember the time Kibum was taken by the guards, the crew just watched, didn’t even try and help.”

“They would have gotten killed,” Taemin murmured.

“You were willing to die for me,” Kibum countered. “That’s trust. We didn’t trust our crew. Sure, they didn’t deserve to die, and I’ll always feel this guilt in my heart, but I can’t change it now. We don’t look back, that’s the rule.”

Taemin clicked his tongue, looking at Kibum, the others brows furrowed, expression stern.

“I have no say in dying of starvation?”

“You said you wanted an adventure,” Kibum whispered, pulling Taemin forward so he could kiss the other softly, chapped lips cutting against each other, both their mouths slightly open, the need for air stronger than the need to keep their lips connected.

Kibum bit his lip as he pulled away, pulling gently on it with his top front teeth. Dots of blood against his lips made Taemin aware of the metallic taste in his mouth. Whether it be his of Kibum’s blood, or maybe both, it still didn’t quench his thirst.

“This’ll be our biggest adventure,” Jonghyun murmured.

“I see your lips moving,” Kibum whispered, pushing Taemin down by his hands, their fingers still entwined as Kibum straddled the younger pirates’ hips. From the corner of his eye, Taemin caught Jonghyun blinking slow and turning his head, focusing his eyes on Kibum and Taemin.

“It’s gonna be fun,” Kibum whispered, cupping Taemin’s cheek, fingers brushing his damp, sandy hair.

Taemin hummed.

The sun was hot, Kibum turning into a shadow, his body highlighted by bright rays.

“Fun?” He repeated, tone wavering, stomach doing flips. “Like real fun.”

“Totally real fun,” Kibum murmured, gums showing as he grinned.

Jonghyun shuffled closer, nose nuzzling Taemin’s shoulder.

“And, if it all goes tits up, I swear I won’t eat your foot, I’ll eat Key’s instead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of like a beginning to a story so if you don't like it that's okay. I didn't want to carry on in case I ruined the drabble with forced words.


	22. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin isn’t afraid of ghosts. Jonghyun? Maybe a little. It’s ironic really.

The apartment was dark safe for the rain pelted outside, softly tapping the windows. All the lights were out, Taemin guessing the storm had hit the power supply hard and nobody in the block of flats had bothered to call the landlord for him to switch on the power. Although, it was two in the morning, Halloween two hours into play, so maybe they just hadn't noticed. Either way, Taemin wasn't complaining. Ghost hunting was fun in the dark.

Outside was dreary, like shaded painting, no colour in sight. Clouds fogging over the moon, the white light slightly transparent. Street lamps were cut, no irridescent bulb shining, making it hard to spot people as they ran by, but this wasn't Taemin's first time preying on ghosts.

“There,” Taemin murmured, voice a warm buzz of excitement; lips sneaking into a grin as he watched someone run down the dark street. The stranger was drenched, no coat or umbrella to their name, just a pale white nightgown as they tried to find shelter from the storm.

Jonghyun nodded, letting out a moan of disgust as he shivered hard enough to gently tussle Taemin.

“Ah, it’s so creepy, they look creepy Taemin, I can’t stand it.”

“You’re scared of your own people?”

“Ghosts aren’t my people, especially ghosts from different centuries, they look creepy. If you could see them, you’d say the same.”

“You’re like a baby kitten.”

“Baby is a useless word considering kitten literally means a baby kitten.”

Taemin tilted his head back to scowl at Jonghyun, his friend shrugging, shoulder brushing Taemin’s cheeks.

They were sat beside each other in Taemin’s apartment, in front of the full-length window, Taemin’s his fuzzy pink pyjama bottoms with white polka dots rubbing Jonghyun’s black denim jeans. The two men were absentmindedly watching the few people locked outside in the storm or running for shelter, trapped in a relay of spot the human.

Taemin enjoyed it, Jonghyun enjoyed Taemin being happy.

Jonghyun sighed, his breath cold against Taemin’s forehead, Taemin’s black hair wispy in the manmade breeze.

“It’s the truth, Taemin.”

“Then baby, but either way you’re a coward.”

“Coward is a completely-”

“Shut up, idiot,” Taemin interrupted, elbowing Jonghyun in his side, the older boy laughing.

Jonghyun leaned into Taemin, smelling his hair.

“Ah, vanilla,” he gently mused, kissing the side of Taemin’s head. “It’s engrained in my senses, that smell.”

“I washed it especially,” Taemin mumbled, wrapping his arms around Jonghyun’s waist; leaning his head gently against the others, Jonghyun smiling gently before he turned his head to the window.

“It’s cold,” Taemin complained, smiling against Jonghyun’s collarbone, that was peaking out from his half done up white shirt, when Jonghyun wrapped the navy-blue cotton blanket, slightly weighted from its thickness, tighter around them both.

“You’re cold,” Taemin whispered, hot air tickling Jonghyun’s tanned skin.

“No blood circulating in my body, Taemin.”

“That makes me better than you.”

“You’re alive, automatically better.”

Taemin bit his lip, white teeth gnawing red lips. He pulled back, lifting a hand and cupping Jonghyun’s cheek, pushing the others cheek so their eyes could lock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay, you know me, heart on my sleeve.”

“That’s what I love about you,” Taemin murmured, leaning in and kissing Jonghyun’s lips gently.

Jonghyun relaxing, almost losing an inch of height as his muscles seemed to melt away. Taemin’s thumb brushed Jonghyun’s cheek gently, skin soft against his thumb and fingers gently scraping the back of his head, behind his ear.

Taemin’s lips tingled against Jonghyun’s, sparks numbing the feeling in his mouth.

Jonghyun wrapped an arm around Taemin’s waist, fingers sneaking under his shirt, nails scraping gently against the others hip.

Taemin hummed, heart leaping into his throat. He gently pulled away, a soft tsk echoing off the walls in an otherwise quiet atmosphere.

Jonghyun locked his lips, grinning as Taemin dropped his hand, entwining both of his behind Jonghyun, squeezing every few seconds, feeling the soft cotton of Jonghyun's shirt buzzing against his palm.

“I love Halloween.”

Taemin returned the smile, leaning forward, resting his forehead against Jonghyun’s collarbone as the other wrapped his arms tightly around him in a warm embrace, Taemin’s chest suddenly fuzzy like a mess of pins pricking at his heated skin.

“For the sex?”

“To be able to touch you is a dream and it only comes once a year.”

Jonghyun kissed the top of Taemin’s head, gently letting go of Taemin, the boy taking it as an indication to lean back, eyes slipping shut as Jonghyun cupped his cheeks, fingers pinching his skin softly before he ran the pads of his fingers over Taemin’s soft, pale face.

“Everywhere?”

Jonghyun nodded. “Everywhere, but mainly your face. I just want to stare and touch.”

Jonghyun left one of his hands on Taemin’s cheeks, the other trailing to his neck, fingers drumming gently against Taemin’s skin as he felt Taemin’s heartbeat quicken underneath his tough, seeming to ignite Taemin’s skin in flames as Jonghyun felt Taemin’s skin turn into a radiator underneath his fingers.

Taemin let out a gentle hum, the vibrations tickling Jonghyun’s fingers.

“Your face is so flushed.”

Taemin blinked slowly, eyes opening, their faces close so there was no hiding his dreamy expression.

“Because of your fingers. So soft and delicate. It makes my skin feel like it's on fire, almost like embers coursing through my veins."

Jonghyun sighed, his breath cold, but Taemin could feel it.

He could feel Jonghyun.

Twenty-two hours left to be touched by the one he loved.

After a few seconds, Jonghyun laughed, the sound warm against the cold atmosphere.

“Taemin.”

“Hmm?”

“You make my cold, silent heart so happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write so much more, but everything I wrote felt like it was ruining it T_T


	23. Ancient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble about witchy Kibum and his lover Taemin, who he also employs as a deliverer for his illegal witchy goods.

Kibum glanced up from his counter, eyes going to the man lying beside the fire.

Taemin.

He’d passed out as soon as Kibum let him inside. Kibum left him on the floor, painting a deep purple salve onto his forehead, the salve sinking into his skin, keeping his mind at ease so he could sleep until today. Any moment now and he’d wake up. The man’s fingers were twitching ever so slightly, head lulling.

Kibum had seen him working with the cattle, him and a few others trying to reign them in to the town for slaughter. Taemin was against it, not the meat, but actually holding the knife, but he had to become a man eventually and, in this age, it was better to listen rather than fight.

Kibum breathed in deeply, the scent of wild berries potent in his hut. He exhaled, the taste of strawberries sticking to the base of his tongue. He looked at the grey bowl on the counter and he pressed the pestle into the mortar, softly crushing the seeds in the granite. He swallowed, the taste of berries grazing his throat. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday dinner, but the strong smell of berries boiling on the fire a few metres away from his was strong enough to affect his senses.

His stomach gurgled, pleading for food, but there was work to be done before he could offer his hungry stomach a settlement of peace.

There was no window in his hut, the only light from the crack under the door and the raging fire beside Taemin. However, Kibum didn't need much light, it hurt his head when too many senses were clogged up at once. It was best to make potions in the dark: undisturbed.

He set the pestle on the side before he picked up the mortar and walked over to the fire, embers gently spewing from the flames as the fruit boiled into a murky red liquid.

He glanced at Taemin, the younger boy stirring gently, gentle moans leaving his mouth, like an angry child too lazy to get out of bed.

Kibum muttered an utterance of Latin, the fire dying down just in time as Taemin turned to lie on his side, facing the fire.

Kibum swallowed a laugh. Always the adrenaline seeker even when he wasn’t conscious.

He gently poured the crushed seeds into the pot, picking up the large metal spoon set horizontally over the pot and mixing the ingredients together slowly – the mixture thick and pulling on the metal.

“Planning to kill someone?”

Kibum looked up, Taemin blinking slowly, eyes swollen, like he hadn’t just woken up from three days of sleep, and cheeks slightly flushed from the heat of the fire.

“Just a little potion for the woman in town. Her husband’s been cheating on her with one of the wenches down at Mrs Tupps.”

Kibum gently pulled the spoon from the pot, balancing it on the rim of the pot.

“Will you put it on her doorstep when you go home?”

“Will you pay me?”

“When you come back, I’ll give you your reward, just don’t fall asleep.”

“You owe me two then, since I fell asleep,” Taemin murmured, pushing himself to sit up, back cracking as he stretched his spine.

Kibum shook his head, watching the crushed nuts disappear in the thick liquid, bubbles slowly popping.

“Just one, you get your reward when you come back. It’s not my fault you conked out immediately.”

“Ah, Kibum, stop being a drag, hmm?” Taemin reached out, clenching and unclenching his hands. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Three days.”

Kibum rounded the fire, taking Taemin’s hands in his and helping the other to stand, Taemin groaning as he pulled himself up. Once he was stood Kibum let go of Taemin’s hands, his soft against Taemin’s calloused palms, and brushed Taemin’s clothes, itchy fabric still covered in twigs from the forest.

“Not even cleaned me off?” Taemin asked as he watched Kibum brush away the nature against his body. “You’re such a bad witch, you know that, really mean.”

“Really mean,” Kibum agreed, brushing his palms, now slightly grazed with dirt, against his own scratching clothes.

Being a witch wasn’t the finer living.

“I gave you some more of that salve to give you peace, what else did you want? I’m busy working.”

“Do you want some help?”

“I have what I need and I’ll be finished with everything soon enough.”

Taemin smiled, eyes squinting shut as Kibum’s cat-like eyes landed on his face.

“Ah, you finished early for me, you do care.”

“What did you tell your parents?”

Taemin’s smiled slowly dropped and he rolled his brown eyes, his gaze landing on the pot above the fire. Kibum gripped Taemin’s jaw, pushing the other’s head, Taemin’s eyes instantly landing on his. Kibum's felt his eyes stinging and he blinked hard, eyes flashing a gentle gold hue before they switched to a deep, almost black, brown hue.

“Still going crazy?” Kibum carefully asked.

“They’re worried, that’s all. I keep disappearing to this job where I don’t get paid. They’re getting suspicious. The whole town is, really. They always stare at me, start rumours. I work, earn money, but they still wonder about where I go."

Kibum’s thumb brushed Taemin’s cheek, the man’s skin soft and subtle, like a new-born baby’s skin. No matter how hard he worked, every part of his skin, except his hands, remained soft, Taemin blamed Kibum, said it was some witchy spell, but Kibum felt the flicker of another being inside Taemin, like he'd been blessed. That's probably what drew the witch to the human in the first place: they were both outsiders, even though Taemin was yet to realise how special he was.

“Too many potions?”

“Maybe.”

Kibum pursed his lips, brain humming as he thought hard, but as a witch, there really wasn't anything he could do but his job.

“You know I can’t help it. People think complaining to the angel in the cemetery means nothing, but whatever the angel hears, I have to listen to, it’s like code.”

“Can’t you loosen up on the code, like make the angel deaf whilst the dust settles at home?”

Kibum’s lips twitched. “The townspeople read the old books and see that God will help if they complain. I can’t change their minds and the angel’s ears are always listening, there’s no way of closing them.”

Kibum cupped squeezed Taemin’s jaw before letting go of Taemin’s face.

Taemin’s eyes fell down, shoulders drooping slightly, demeanor getting smaller, almost like he was bowing down to his master.

Kibum set his hands on his hips. “Ah, Taemin, you’re such a brat, I wish I had a potion to fix that.”

“You fell for my personality,” Taemin countered, eyes flickering to Kibum's face before he looked back down to the floor, Kibum catching a smile hinting against his lips.

Kibum nodded, reaching out with both hands and tucking Taemin’s hair behind his ears, the man’s hair slightly greasy, blonde hair streaked with dirt.

“Do you want a bath?”

“You’re saying I stink?”

“I’m saying I live a life of invisibility which makes baths not very expensive.”

“I clean by the river most days.”

“Try soap.”

“I do, most of the time.”

Kibum breathed in, faking a grimace.

Taemin gasped, straightening up and gently hitting Kibum, the witch grabbing his wrist and squeezing tightly, their skin totally different. Kibum's was almost shining, always clean to stop potions from being tampered, whilst Taemin's skin was patchy from mud, nails bitten off or snapped off from days of work.

Kibum loosened his grip on Taemin's wrist. “Have a bath whilst I finish off this potion and then I’ll feed you. Your cheeks aren't as fat.”

“If I keep going home stinking of flowers, I’ll get hung.”

“The angels listen, but they also see everything.”

Taemin's breathing hitched and Kibum felt his skint tingle against his palm.

Kibum reached for Taemin's second wrist, guiding Taemin’s hands to his eyes.

“I see everything that happens to you,” Kibum softly spoke, his own expression softening as Taemin's muscles relaxed in his grip, his eyes hidden so Kibum's eyes could roam him freely. The aura around Taemin softened and Kibum closed his eyes, listened hard as his heightened senses picked up Taemin's heartbeat, a beat faster, but only by mere moments. Kibum opened his eyes slowly. He felt the trust between them, a knot forming in his stomach at the sudden overwhelming feeling of warmth.

Kibum gently pulled Taemin’s hands away from his eyes, Taemin blinking fast as light from the flames beside them hit his still tired eyes, making them glint in the otherwise dark hut. When Taemin focused his gaze on Kibum, he tilted his head to the side slightly, bangs falling over his eyes, more heat rushing over Kibum like the fire had spread throughout his hut - scorching the place in ash and flames.

“You're not just a witch, Kibum, you're a real guardian angel, just for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. It was going good, but then I got stuck :(


	24. Dizzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum has dizzy spells. It doesn’t scare Minho anymore.

Kibum felt the world spin as he shut the bathroom stalls door, shaking hands lifted as bitten nails scratched for the latch, Kibum releasing the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when the stall locked shut. He pressed his palms to either side of the stall, legs giving out as he collapsed on the, thankfully, closed lid of the toilet seat. Kibum closed his eyes, humming firmly, the vibration making his teeth, that were already tingling, sensationless.

Fireworks were playing against his closed eyelids so he opened them slowly, the entire room, be it only his singular stall, upside down so his eyes slipped shut again – preferring the sight of fireworks instead of an upside-down world. The sparks weren’t colourful, mostly just white flashes, but they beamed from spots like rockets bursting in the night sky.

His mind screeched, like someone was sawing at his brain: metal grinding against wood at the wrong angle. Kibum could feel his ears pounding, could hear the blood surging through his veins until Kibum could feel his veins bursting throughout his body, limbs becoming weak. Bile rose to his throat, heart falling to his stomach. He knew his face would be pale because his skin was getting colder, the tips of his fingers and toes numb, face paling as the fireworks suddenly exaggerated the light, whites flashing at a faster pace against a black background.

Kibum swayed slightly, hands pressed against the stall walls turned to fists as he clenched and unclenched, knuckles turning white with every bit of pressure as skin stretched over bone. His lips slightly parted, ears zoning out when he heard the door to the bathroom bang, signalling the door closing or opening, either way, Kibum was too lost to care.

Knock. Knock.

“Kibumie, are you okay in there? I’ve never seen you run so fast.”

Minho.

Kibum gritted his teeth, nodding fast, but Minho couldn’t see him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a high-pitched squeak so he clamped his mouth shut; focused on humming, teeth getting number by the second until his tongue couldn’t even tell his brain they were there, gums a dull thud of pain.

“This bathroom’s out of order, get out guys, come on, senior here, fuck off, go downstairs or down the hall.”

Kibum heard complaints, but the scuttle of feet getting further away appeased Kibum to some degree.

“Thank you, Jesus, next time listen to the senior in front of you.”

Kibum relaxed, muscles no longer pulsating like someone had been digging their fingers into his skin.

Less people: less humiliation.

Kibum swallowed, no taste in his mouth, but his throat burned as the vomit just below his mouth threatened to spill out, but he was rgaining control. He was okay.

“’bumie, you okay? It’s just me.”

Kibum nodded against, voice box out of order.

“I’ll take the silence as a yes. You’d be half hanging out under the door if you’d actually fainted. Next time tell me you need to sit down instead of sprinting to the bathroom, okay?”

Kibum gritted his teeth, grinding them before his jaw went slack and he exhaled deeply, blinking slowly, vision regulating as the fireworks disappeared.

“Though, if you’ve fainted, and you’re head first in the toilet, I’m sorry, I won’t tell anyone you drowned in the toilet, I’ll take the fall for it.”

Kibum snickered, sound more like air shrieking out of a balloon. The pain in his head lessened, saw pulling away from the wood, no longer screeching, only softly tickling the wood. Kibum let out a gentle moan as his mind cleared. His ears were pounding, but he wasn't as in-tuned to the sound of his beating heart

“Can we go to the canteen for lunch? They’re selling tacos.”

Kibum nodded again, this time clearing his throat.

“Ve-veggie,” Kibum stuttered, voice shaking. The tone of his voice was weak, mouth not moving properly so his words slightly slurred, but he could speak.

“They do veggie tacos, Kibumie, and you can’t say you’re a vegetarian!” Minho yelled, voice strong and powerful like his personality. “I saw you eat a full packet of Haribo’s yesterday.”

“The taste, babe, all… in the taste,” Kibum slowly spoke, lips burning, the man regaining feeling in them so his words were much sterner.

“You’re such a diva, ‘bumie.”

Kibum dropped his hands from the stall walls, squeezing his fingers together, tensing his muscles, before he stood from the toilet, shaking, but he could feel his skin regaining some sort of heat, the sweat against his forehead drying up.

Slowly, he unlatched the door, Minho, most likely, listening for the click, as he was the one who pushed it open.

Kibum’s eyes hesitated, still focused on the door, before he looked at Minho’s face, having to tilt his head back slightly as Minho was a few inches taller.

Minho smiled, his teeth almost glinting, face radiant, as always.

“You okay?”

Kibum nodded, the younger boy reaching for his hand, Minho's becoming Kibum's anchor, weighting him back to reality.

“Come on, Key, I’ll buy you some chocolate.”


	25. Tasty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin can't cook, but Minho cares more about Taemin's feelings than the burnt food in his mouth.

Taemin grimaced as he watched Minho put another forkful of pasta and meat into his mouth, red sauce smearing over his lips before Minho’s tongue peaked out and licked away the, for some reason, sweet liquid. Taemin felt his mouth water, the taste permanent in his mouth from the forkful he’d previously eaten.

He mostly blamed himself for forgetting he was pulling a prank on his roommate, Kibum, and had swapped the salt for the sugar. At least when Kibum came back (giving Minho and Taemin a proper date night) he’d taste the salty fruit of Taemin’s labour in his morning coffee.

Taemin glanced at his plate, just as full as it had been since he sat down, the red sauce thick against dark wads of beef and pasta.

“I can pick the black bits out; that’s how burnt it is,” Taemin complained, fork picking up chunks of black meat from underneath dark pieces of pasta.

Taemin chanced the taste and stabbed a piece of pasta onto his fork, lips slowly parted as he brought the food to his mouth, teeth scraping against the metal fork as he pulled the pasta into his mouth. He chewed slowly, bits sticking in his teeth. Taemin looked at Minho, expression softening when he saw Minho chewing, cheeks full, already picking up another spoonful.

Minho’s expression was stern; brows furrowed and lips pursed, jaw moving fast as he chewed, Taemin guessing to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

“Minho,” Taemin spoke after a few seconds of silence, Minho moving his eyes from the plate of nearly inedible food and focusing on Taemin – eyes unblinking.

“Minho, let’s just throw it in the trash and order take out, or starve, I don’t care, all this burnt food is making my stomach turn anyways.”

“I’m eating,” Minho said, tone muffled by the food in his mouth.

“Minho. It’s gross.”

“Taemin. It may be gross, but I taste the love.”

“Idiot,” Taemin muttered, scowling at the older boy from across the table.

Minho caught his gaze and smiled, Taemin kicking Minho’s knee, his touch soft, but hard enough to make Minho wince.

“Just let me eat in peace,” Minho said, swallowing hard, Taemin watched as Minho rubbed his throat, coughing slightly.

“Ah, Minho…”

Minho set his fork down, reaching for his glass of water, pressing the rim to his lips and gulping down the last few mouthfuls, gently gasping as he set the glass back down.

Taemin hummed, setting an elbow on the table and resting his chin atop of his palm, head tilted slightly to the side.

“I appreciate you acting all heroic, but my feelings aren’t hurt. The food I cook is shit, I know that.”

“Not shit.”

“Then I just get distracted when I cook and forget about it until all I smell is burnt food.”

“Burnt food tastes kind of bitter, but it’s all still edible.”

Minho picked up his fork, but Taemin had had enough.

Taemin stood, the legs of the chair scraping against the hardwood kitchen flooring. He rounded the table, picking up the plate in front of Minho, the other making a noise of protest, reaching for the ceramic, but Taemin dodged away from his tanned hands and dumped the food into the bin, food splattering onto the floor as Taemin messily scraped the food off the plate with a knife on the side of the counter. He didn't even want to focus his eyes on the counter, a mess of dirty dishes he promised Kibum he'd clean, but in reality he had no intention of touching.

“Taemin!” Minho yelled, but not getting from his seat, obviously not too overwhelmed with emotions from the loss of his food. “That’s my dinner!”

“It’s trash. You’re hurting my feelings by eating it,” Taemin mumbled, all but throwing the plate into the sink before he sat beside Minho, groaning.

“Just say it’s trash and we can move on.”

“I’m being nice, something you, obviously, don’t understand.”

“I’d rather you be mean. It’s making me upset, okay, just, I know I can’t cook, let’s move on.”

Taemin felt his stomach flip, the sickly feeling of guilt eating away at his insides.

He reached his hands for Minho’s, squeezing them gently, eyes focusing on the pair. He wasn't upset, tears didn't blur his vision, but with every passing second to churning in his stomach exaggerated.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because I ruined another date night. I swear next week, I won’t get distracted at all, I’ll even get Kibum to help.”

“Taemin, babe,” Minho whispered, prying his hands from Taemin’s grip and cupping the younger boy’s cheeks, tilting Taemin's head back so they could lock eyes.

Minho's face was soft, his smile lobsided, hair swept back, jaw firm, but Taemin could see the familiar twinkle in his eyes - the care.

“You get so worked up, Taemin, just chill out.”

“I just. This happens every time. It’s so annoying.”

Taemin sighed, Minho feeling the cool air tease his wrists. Minho shuffled closer, denim cladded knees brushing Taemin’s – denim scratching against denim. Minho leaned in, pressing his lips to Taemin’s, the buzz of warmth filling Taemin’s mouth as he slightly parted his lips, the feel of Minho’s tongue tickling his mouth.

Minho pulled away, Taemin rubbing his lips together, mouth buzzing with sparks.

“But, I mean, I appreciate you getting stressed. It shows me how much you care.”


	26. Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin and Kibum are content in each other’s company.

It was a little past midnight.

Taemin and Kibum had been eating sweets, watching Netflix and making out in their shared bed for a few hours now – the TV having been turned off in a slightly more heated make out session, but Taemin and Kibum were too lazy to search for the remote lost either in the bed of the floor, so they landed in a comfortable position, touching, but not too much, heated skin touching to lock in warmth, but not to make it uncomfortable and sweaty.

The lilac curtains were still open, bathing the two boys in soft moonlight, the flashing from the broken backyard light annoying, but neither males made effort to complain or move, both too wrapped up in comfort to even try.

They were both relaxed, the atmosphere silent, but not awkward.

Kibum blinked slow, mind clouding over as the silence lulled him to sleep, even the outside world mute making it seem as though the two men were locked away in their own bubble of ease. Kibum was on Taemin’s right side, both men shirtless, Kibum’s left arm over Taemin’s chest, moving up and down from Taemin’s soft breathing, the tips of his fingers grazing Taemin’s chin. His head was on Taemin’s shoulder, the younger boys arm spread out under the pillow and Kibum’s neck – their legs going in opposite directions.

Taemin hummed, the vibration from the sound tickling Kibum’s fingers.

Kibum also hummed, almost mocking Taemin.

Kibum turned his head, nose brushing Taemin’s cheek so he tilted his head back slightly so he could focus more on Taemin’s face. Taemin’s eyes were closed, expression soft, face as pretty as always from what he could see in the natural lighting.

He gently scratched Taemin’s chin, his nails short so it was more like skin scratching skin.

Kibum chewed on the inside of his mouth, the clouds in his head clearing to an almost blue sky as his eyes stayed open: his mind wandering back to reality; dream world gone for now.

“What?”

Kibum heard Taemin clear his throat, tone loud against his ears.

“Did I speak?” Taemin asked, slurring his words slightly.

Taemin must be close to sleep too.

Kibum's expression softened, facial muscles relaxed as he shuffled to lie on his side, tucking the arm over Taemin’s chest against his own chest so he could throw his right arm over Taemin’s chest, leg over Taemin’s legs, clinging to the boy like a koala on a tree.

Taemin blinked fast, brows twitching slightly before his eyes remained open and he looked at Kibum, the older boy biting down harder on the inside of his mouth as he pushed himself up slightly until he could bend his left arm; resting his elbow on the mattress and chin on top of his palm.

Taemin’s lips sneaked into a smile, the younger boy’s eyes slipping shut as Kibum lifted the arm off his chest and cupped Taemin’s cheek. He swiped his thumb over Taemin’s dry lips.

“You hummed. What?”

“I hummed,” Taemin repeated, Kibum’s thumb grazing his teeth before he trailed his fingers down Taemin’s jaw, drumming gently on his jawline. “Like natural noise, hmm?”

“Natural noise, I see. Like kissing completely natural.”

“Like what?”

Kibum grinned, trying to control his smile and succeeding in making it smaller as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Taemin’s. Taemin parted his lips as Kibum’s fingers pressed slightly firmer into Taemin’s skin like pressing buttons; turning up the heat between their half-naked bodies. Kibum tilted his own head slightly to the side, teeth gently biting on Taemin’s lip until the younger boy gasped in Kibum’s mouth, Kibum dragging his fingers to Taemin’s pulse spot on his neck so he could feel Taemin’s heart rate quicken, skin a warm buzz of excitement.

Kibum’s taste buds were tingling, Taemin’s mouth sweet from the chocolate they’d binged, like a sickly sweet dessert that Kibum refused to share.

Kibum pressed his lips harder against Taemin’s, numbing his own lips for a moment before relieving pressure, teeth scraping Taemin’s lips as he opened his mouth.

Kibum pulled back slowly, lips hot, tingling like electric running through a circuit. Taemin’s heartbeat was fast and strong under his fingers, Kibum’s own heart hammering against his ribs, threatening to leap out of his chest. Kibum’s eyes slipped shut and he leant forward, pressing his forehead to Taemin’s, his, or Taemin’s, he wasn’t sure, feverish.

“Kibumie,” Taemin whispered, warm air teasing Kibum’s face.

Kibum slowly pulled on his lip with his front teeth, the small amount of pain anchoring him back to his and Taemin’s bubble of content.

“What is it?” Kibum asked, voice slightly raspy.

Taemin licked his already wet lips a soft chuckle leaving his mouth, sparking a fire in Kibum’s chest.

“I think I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet seems to be the running theme I'm sorry T_T


	27. Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum loses his coat and then he finds it.

Kibum winced, dubstep beats exploding his eardrums.

Bright lights flashed in front of him, the pit of sweaty bodies making Kibum grimace in his sober state, the smell of B.O dominant over the pungent scent of strong alcohol. Kibum could feel the soles of his shiny leather boots sticking to the hard, painted black floor, splashing in pools of fallen alcohol, he hoped, as he found his way out of the crowd.

Kibum covered the silver chains on his neck as he passed a particularly hyper group of women, careful not to let their claws scratch at accessories.

Kibum’s baggy white shirt, parts neon, lit up under the flashing lights, his arms covered by black fishnets, black denim jeans tight over his thighs and calves.

Once out, he walked up a metal staircase, the beat of music pounding at his head as he neared the DJ booth, where he and his friends had booked a private section.

Kibum set a hand over one of his ears, stopping at where his friends had left their coats, a sea of colours now a mess on the chairs.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his voice not even making it to his own ears, as he started rooting through the wave of coats, picking up a familiar green one and sighing.

Minho’s coat would have to do.

He rooted through the pockets, smiling when his fingers brushed hard brass.

A lighter.

“Ah, such a bad boy,” Kibum mumbled, pulling the lighter from the pocket and searching through the inside pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He pulled out one and put the box back, setting the coat back on the chair and then walking to the railings surrounding the private seating area.

He leant on the metal, cat eyes squinting as he searched through the pit of dancing bodies. He laughed to himself when his eyes landed on Minho, the boy tall against the crowd, a red-haired woman under his fingers.

“Such a flirt,” Kibum complained as he watched Minho drunkenly dance against the woman.

“Always turning into a het when you’re drunk.”

Kibum pushed himself off the railing.

He’d save Minho when he was finished smoking.

Kibum walked down the set of stairs again, following the line of bodies on the outskirts of the pit as he neared the back exit on the club, the security guard moving away – the perks of being best friends with the owner Lee Jinki.

Kibum nodded to the bouncer, pushing the latch down and then pushing the door open, walking outside. The air was hot, but it was nearing the end of summer so a cool breeze, albeit soft and almost unnoticeable, hit his face as the door softly shut behind him. Kibum glanced back, checking the door was open ajar before he looked back into the back of the club, spacious, a parking lot for the staff, closed to the public and fenced off, barbed wire making the area seem like a prison.

Outside was near silent, his mind still thudded to the beat of the music he could hear vibrating against the walls of the club.

Kibum set the cigarette in his mouth and lit the end.

The end of the cigarette lit bright in the dark evening as fire burned nicotine and after a few seconds Kibum let go of the switch on the lighter, pocketing the object.

He inhaled gently, the end exaggerating a fiery orange, before he pulled it front his mouth, squeezing the stick with his thumb and index finger, feeling the burn against his throat as smoke entered his lungs before he blew gently, an almost transparent cloud of smoke disappearing into the air.

“Buy the ones that smell of candyfloss, that shit stinks.”

Kibum narrowed his eyes as he glanced to the side, eyes landing on a bud of orange light.

“You’re smoking one.”

The stranger shrugged, Kibum’s eyes flitting to his shoulders, fluffy under the security lights around the fenced off car park.

Kibum scowled. “Nice coat.”

The stranger, a cigarette in his mouth, looked at Kibum, his expression hard before he lips curled into a grin and he pulled out the cigarette, dropping it to the floor and stamping on it, Kibum’s eyes watching a pair of black vans stamp out the orange light.

Kibum dragged his eyes up the stranger’s muscular legs, blue jeans, ripped, tight against his legs, before he looked at the stranger’s face, the other man’s eyes focused on Kibum’s as he gently blew.

“Yours?”

“You sneaked into the private area; I’m guessing,” Kibum said, eyes flitting to the brown, fluffy coat, the stranger was wearing.

“I know the owner.”

“So, do I, but I don’t steal.”

Kibum reached out, making a gesture for the stranger to hand over the fluffy coat.

“I’m Taemin.”

“I don’t care. Gimme the coat, thief.”

The stranger, Taemin, smiled, his face a pretty picture under the bright light whites.

After a few seconds of staring each other down, Taemin slowly unzipped the coat, the distorted noise loud, Kibum’s senses heightened from being in such a loud club for so long.

“I don’t go around stealing coats.”

“I don’t care, just give-”

Kibum cut himself off, clamping his lips shut. He hummed, vibrations numbing his teeth.

As Taemin pulled the arms of the coat off, Kibum caught sight of a once white shirt stained by red, shimmering, so it was fresh. Taemin’s arms were red, scratched, blood dripping, staining red lines down his arm.

“Keep it,” Kibum quickly said, dropping the cigarette and walking to Taemin, grabbing the soft fabric of the coat and gently pulling it over Taemin’s arms.

“Don’t want it back now you see how stained it is?”

“Wash it and give it to Jinki. It’s expensive.”

“Gucci expensive?”

Kibum snickered, lips wide, as he turned Taemin to face him, eyes falling to the blood at the front of Taemin’s shirt before he gently zipped the coat up.

“Kind of. I have taste.”

“Are you rich?”

“I just have money.”

“Financially stable?”

Kibum nodded, fingers hesitating on the zip to his coat, the buzz of sound in his ears clearing as he focused on Taemin.

“It is your blood, right?”

“Ah, you draw the line at helping a serial killer?”

“Maybe, Jinki’s friend is a friend to me, I guess.” Kibum smoothed the coat Taemin was wearing, soft fur tickling his palms, before he gripped the hem of the coat and locked eyes with Taemin.

“Did you get jumped?”

“They avoided my face.”

“I guessed. Such a pretty face, hmm? Homophobic assholes?”

“Who says I’m gay?”

“Honey,” Kibum whispered, teeth showing as he smiled harder. “Do you know what kind of club this is?”

“I’ve seen women here.”

“Anyone’s welcome here and women, they feel safer dancing with gay men. Wouldn’t you?”

Kibum took in Taemin’s face: round an immature, pieces of black hair hiding his eyes.

“So, homophobes?”

“Homophobes with a knife. I think I was lucky.”

“Very lucky. Do you need help getting home? I’m sober, I just have to get my friend.”

“Jinki’s upstairs, he said I could spend the night with him.”

Taemin lifted a hand, Kibum flinching slightly when a cold palm cupped his cheek.

“You know, sex stuff.”

“Sex stuff,” Kibum repeated, tone quiet. “You’re such a brat, you know Jinki’s asexual, right? You’re supposed to be his friend.”

Taemin grinned, eyes almost shut. “It was a joke; don’t you have a sense of humour?”

“Not with thieves.”

Kibum tilted his head into Taemin’s touch. “Did Jinki not patch you up?”

”He did, but he brought me in the front way, grabbed a coat on his way to the office, hence the stealing, but then I needed a smoke really badly.”

Kibum dropped his eyes to the floor, three of four cigarettes between him and Taemin.

“More than one,” Taemin murmured.

Kibum looked back at Taemin, leaning forward slightly, teeth grabbing the inside of his bottom lip. Taemin closed his eyes, Kibum’s eyes roaming Taemin’s face, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, face slightly flushed from the warm evening, or adrenaline, whatever it was, it was attractive.

Kibum faltered before leaning in and kissing Taemin’s lips softly, the other boy’s lips soft against his. Kibum parted his lips, tongue sneaking out, the bitter taste of nicotine strong in Taemin’s mouth, which sent tingling sensations against Kibum’s tongue.

Taemin was the one to pull back, dropping his head slightly so Kibum’s lips brushed his forehead.

Kibum bit his bottom lip hard, a metallic taste mixing with nicotine. He let go of the coat Taemin was wearing, Taemin dropping his hand from Kibum’s cheek. Kibum wiped his mouth, smiling when Taemin looked at him.

“I better go back inside, find my friend before he does something stupid.”

“Your coat and your-your name.”

Kibum shrugged, walking back to the door, Taemin’s eyes following him. Kibum pressed his back to the metal door, grinning.

“My name’s Key. Ask Jinki for my phone number.”


	28. Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum is kinda mad until someone picks him up.

Kibum kicked a stone into the road, the rock scuffing the front of his black and white pair of vans. He watched it skim across the concrete, the stone hitting off the deep red metal of a car racing by, metal irritating Kibum’s eyes, from light twinkling off the bonnet, so he had to squint. Kibum’s squinted eyes followed the car for a few seconds before he looked back in front, eyes focusing on the stretch of pavement. He shoved his pockets into his oversized red hoodie, fingers pinching at through the thick cotton at the studded belt holding up his tight black jeans. It was autumn, the air chillier as winter approached, but he was a few streets away from his house so he wasn’t going to freeze his ass off too much.

He’d been hanging out with his best friend, Jonghyun, and, a few hours into their weekly session of drinking coffee and ranting, Jonghyun’s boyfriend, Taemin, walked in.

Kibum loved Taemin, he was their number one fan, but this was their weekly bro date, no boys allowed. He brushed it off as coincidence and it was easy to fall into a routine of teasing the couple, the interruption of his platonic date with Jonghyun at the back of his mind – for now.

Taemin ordered a coffee and he came back to the table with it in a to go cup, hinting he was leaving soon, so Kibum relaxed and watched gleefully as Jonghyun turned into the hands on, dutiful boyfriend, fretting over Taemin, making sure his hair and makeup looked good.

It was cute and Kibum got to laugh at Taemin blushing, the brat too concerned with how low Jonghyun’s hands got to defend himself for a change.

However, after a few minutes of talking passed, Taemin told Kibum that he was staying and Kibum would have been a hundred percent happy had it not been on his bro date. He scowled, acted bratty for a bit, but Taemin’s soft face turned him around.

The final straw, however, was when he felt a foot around his ankle, sure, it quickly left, but no way was he going to third wheel whilst his two friends played footsies under the table. Kibum didn’t even want to think of where their hands were, so he did what any normal person would do: he snuck out when he said he was going to the bathroom.

The green-eyed monster ate away at him, but he knew the feeling would fade into guilt, the pit of his stomach already churning.

Kibum lifted his head, tilting it back slightly so he could look at the sky; a pale blue and cloudless.

Surprisingly, the streets were quiet, save for a few angry drivers, but his area had always been quiet, too quiet, that’s why he preferred spending most nights at Jonghyun’s house where there was always noise (mostly because his sister was always there, tormenting her brother) and most of the time Taemin and Jinki were there, hanging out, it was loud all the time and Kibum relished in the noise, the atmosphere of his own house too still for him to concentrate hard without becoming uncomfortable.

“Key!”

Kibum flinched, pushed out of his thoughts.

He froze, eyes searching before they landed on a black car parked across the road, a boy radiating a bright aura in the driver’s seat.

Minho.

Taemin’s best friend.

Also, Kibum’s crush.

Well, the crush was mutual.

Kibum knew Minho liked him and he also knew that Minho knew Kibum liked him, but neither made an effort to make it official.

Sex friends?

Maybe.

But the feelings were deeper.

“I’ll give you a ride!”

Kibum tsked, but his chest tightened. He scrunched his nose in distaste, not against Minho, but rather against the way Minho made him feel: like his heart was going to explode.

“My house is around the corner!”

“I'll buy you sweets!”

“You’re such a creeper!” Kibum yelled, legs already crossing the road and expression already softening, his heart beating faster with every step he took until he was at Minho’s side, the window rolled down, Minho’s arm resting on top. Minho's brunette hair was swept back and slightly damp.

“Hey,” Minho said, leaning his head back, revealing his neck, bruised spots fading.

“You had fun?”

“You should know, you were there.”

Minho pulled on his grey shirt, showing them off, but playing it off as an itch.

Kibum’s heart soared, but he maintained composure.

“Come on,” Minho whispered, revving the car. “I’m a good driver.”

“You’re a shit driver.”

Minho reached out of the window, pulling on one of the pockets Kibum’s hands were still inside, Kibum’s palms now hot and sweaty so he clasped them together to stop the immediate reaction of grabbing Minho’s hand.

“You weren’t saying that a few nights ago.”

Kibum chewed the inside of his mouth, shaking his head.

“Minho, we were in a stationary position.”

“Don’t you mean missionary?”

“How come you act like such a top when we’re not having sex?” Kibum murmured, legs pressing against the metal of the car as a moving vehicle zoomed by.

“Dominant bottom, those exist you know.”

Kibum rolled his eyes, pulling his hands from his pockets and wiping them on his jeans, Minho letting go of his hoodie so Kibum could round the car. Kibum exhaled, breathing shakily, heart almost thumping out of his chest. Once at the other side of the car he hesitated for a few seconds before opening the car door and getting inside, the door slamming shut behind him, suddenly making him feel like a caged animal.

He lifted his eyes, Minho leaning over to him slightly, their faces inches apart.

“Hey,” Kibum whispered, lips sneaking into a grin. He laughed, the bubbly noise erupting from his throat at the sight of Minho biting his lip.

“Ah, stop it!” Kibum yelled, anxiety disappearing as he buckled himself in.

“Stop what?”

Kibum groaned, laughter still tickling his throat.

“Acting like a fuck boy, those looks don’t work on me anymore, not now I know how much of a nerd you are.”

Once buckled in, Kibum’s eyes went to Minho’s legs, his thighs buldged against tight black fabric that cut off at his knees, calves on show for Kibum to ogle.

Gym wear.

Kibum’s eyes roamed Minho’s body freely, humming gently when Minho started to squirm.

“Not so confident, hmm?”

“You’re wearing layers, I'm not.”

Kibum shrugged, eyes landing on Minho’s neck before he looked Minho in the eyes, his own wide.

“You wore that? So open? What about the hickies?”

“So what? People my age have hickies.”

“Slut,” Kibum mumbled, getting comfy as Minho pushed down the handbrake and put it into gear, pressing on the accelerator and starting the car, the vehicle slowly moving.

When on the road, Kibum focused on the scenery outside, the silence between them, expect for the radio station playing lousy pop song, was manageable, probably the only silence Kibum accepted because talking meant the conversation led somewhere, he didn’t want it to go. The car was stuffy as his mind wandered to that place, the fantasy of him and Minho being boyfriends. He wanted it, badly, and so did Minho, but they were afraid because even though it was good, they butted heads often and if the relationship ended badly it’d ruin it for the entire friend group.

Taemin and Jonghyun were different.

Together, they were complete.

If they ever broke up, Kibum, Jinki and Minho would probably lock them in a room until they starved to death or promised to get back together.

Minho coughed, Kibum dragging his gaze to the other, focusing on his firm jawline as he spoke.

“So, where have you been?” Minho asked, clicking the indicator.

“Bro date.”

“With Jonghyun?” Minho asked, gently pressing on the brakes as he turned the corner to Kibum’s street. He’d never actually been inside, but he’d dropped Kibum often more times than Kibum cares to remember.

“Our weekly bro dates at that café in town. We usually hang out all day, but we were interrupted.”

“Did you drink all the coffee?”

Kibum tutted, hitting Minho’s arm gently, fingers staying a few seconds longer than necessary as he squeezed Minho’s arm. Firm. Kibum pulled his hand away, a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers, like electricity.

“Taemin showed up,” Kibum murmured, pressing his palms against his thighs, massaging his muscles gently, fingers only seeming to tingle harder.

“He said he and Jonghyun were going on a date.”

“Ah, that’s even worse. I thought it was Taemin who ruined our bro date, now I blame Jonghyun for choosing a hoe before his bro, no offence.”

“Taemin’s a hoe.”

Kibum glanced at Minho, the others lips spread wide, teeth a bright white in the sunlight.

“That’s why him and Jjong are the perfect match: both hoes.”

Kibum nodded, eyes on Minho’s legs. “If Jonghyun doesn’t make me his best man, I’m not attending the wedding.”

“Am I your plus one?”

“Your Taemin’s best man.”

“He’s traditional, he’ll ask his brother, or Jinki, probably Jinki, he’s his favourite.”

Kibum licked his lips, stomach sparking a shock, the churning of guilt now a pit full of butterflies. He lifted his gaze to Minho’s face, concentrating on the other, his heart fluttering when he saw Minho tensing, obviously aware of how hard Kibum was staring.

“If I don’t have a cute boyfriend by then I’ll ask you.”

“To be your cute boyfriend?” Minho asked, tone slightly shaky, confidence a façade.

Kibum grinned, looking away as they neared his house.

He watched the familiar houses slowly pass by, his mind a mess, the butterflies in his stomach joined by bees buzzing around his head, stinging any sane thought in his mind before Kibum had the chance to consider them so, instead, he could only focus on the voice in his head screaming at him to marry this man. Kibum sighed, he'd been sighing a lot, this day stressful, trying to test his heart.

“Minho… when are we going to stop playing around the idea of being together?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Asshole,” Kibum muttered. “One day, you’re gonna ask me out and I’m gonna have you in the palm of my hand.”

Kibum lifted his hand, palm facing the roof of the car and he squeezed a few times.

“Right here and you’ll never be able to get out. I know stuff about you.”

“This has quickly turned into blackmail.”

Kibum dropped his hand to his lap as Minho turned the steering wheel, pulling into his driveway. Minho pressed on the brake and came to a slow stop, brakes gently squeaking. He pulled the hand brake and turned to look at Kibum, the other focusing on the pebble-dashed house inf front of them before hesitantly meeting his gaze.

Minho’s face was soft, no makeup, flawless, cheeks rosy, Kibum guessing from the gym, but hoping because of his teasing.

“Until then, how about you come to my house for dinner? My mum left me leftovers.”

“Bro date.”

“No homo.”

Kibum nodded, brows furrowed, face completely serious.

“No homo if we end up in bed?”

Minho nodded, brows also furrowed, as he played along.

“Just two bros comfortable with each other.”

Kibum smiled, leaning in and kissing Minho’s lips softly, their lips a perfect match - like tea and honey: sickly sweet. When he pulled away, Kibum saw Minho’s eyes closed, expression soft, almost like he was logging the feeling in his brain.

Kibum felt the butterflies in his stomach turn into a tornado of wings fighting. He swallowed another laugh threatening to spill.

Things we’re looking up.

Maybe his original bro date didn’t work out, but these days he much preferred Minho’s company anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this listening to Famous on repeat :D Taemin’s Japanese hits: bops. Colours is exceptional.


	29. Injured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin got hurt during a raid.

Taemin was lying down, multiple raggedy sheets over his body, keeping him somewhat warm in the still chilly spring air, a few thicker blankets thick, under his body to protect it from the concrete. Jonghyun sat beside him, legs crossed. Around them were sheets, hung up for privacy, blocking out people, but not the gentle murmurs of chatter, though it was a welcome distraction.

Jonghyun picked up the dark green canteen beside him. His hands were streaked with dirt, nails bitten down so his nails were as clean as they’d been in months.

Jonghyun sipped on the canteen of water, the tasteless liquid moisturising his scratchy throat as he gulped hard, forcing the water down. His tightened the lid on the canteen, setting it beside him on the concrete floor, metal clanging gently. His mouth watered and he swallowed a few times, throat burning.

“Share some.”

The voice was weak, almost a whisper, tone cracking slightly under the strain of speaking.

Jonghyun dropped his eyes to Taemin, lips spreading into a grin when he saw Taemin’s eyes on him, slightly droopy, but he could see Taemin’s brows twitching as he strained them to try and focus on Jonghyun’s face.

Taemin’s face had been a mess of dirt and blood, but Jonghyun had spent a good amount of time gently cleaning his face. It was a waste of water and if Taemin had been awake he would have scolded Jonghyun, but he wasn’t and he didn’t need to know yet.

“With you?” Jonghyun asked, dramatizing a grimace. “No. You’re infested with germs.”

“No germs, Jjong, just pain.”

From Taemin’s serious admittance, Jonghyun’s expression softened and he nodded.

He reached out, cupping Taemin’s cheek, mostly to feel the warmth under the pads of his cold fingers.

Taemin closed his eyes, scrunching them slightly.

“Now cold.”

“Stop complaining,” Jonghyun murmured, voice lacking the commanding tone, a hum of warmth the almost cold atmosphere.

He pinched Taemin’s cheeks, head tilting to the side slightly. He could feel his expression switch to dreamy, skin heating against the cold atmosphere. Jonghyun lessened the pressure on Taemin’s cheeks, fingers barely brushing his skin before he pulled his hand away completely and grabbed Taemin’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“How does your back feel?”

Taemin’s fingers twitched in Jonghyun’s hold, the nail on his thumb gently digging into Jonghyun’s hand.

“I fell off a building and landed on my back. How do you think it feels?”

“Brat,” Jonghyun muttered, tone soft, contrasting against the insult.

Jonghyun ran a thumb over the back of Taemin’s hand, the back younger boy’s hand surprisingly soft, though his palm was rough, blistered from climbing and grazed from falling.

“Minho said you were so cool, running away from the guards like that.”

“Like a true rioter?”

“Definitely.”

Taemin licked his lips, chapped from what Jonghyun could see. He blinked slow until his eyes stayed open, focusing them on Jonghyun. Taemin’s expression was pained, muscles tense in his face and arms.

“Sore?”

“You asked.

“Taemin,” Jonghyun whispered.

Taemin hummed, face relaxing. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just be serious Taemin for a few minutes.”

“It’s sore. Excruciating.”

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed and he grit his teeth, tensing his jaw for a few seconds, watching Taemin’s muscles firm up again, obviously forcing himself to keep still, almost frozen, so he wouldn’t hurt himself.

Taemin shuffled slightly, squeezing Jonghyun’s hand tightly.

“Did you give me anything?”

“Jinki had found some pain medicine and everyone in the facility is helping to find more. It’s nothing, but all the hospitals in the city are too far to risk it so we can only raid the out facilities, but they’ve stopped sending products through them.”

“Tough?”

“Really tough, but we’re all trying, for you.”

“It helps to be the prettiest.”

“The nicest,” Jonghyun gently corrected.

“After Jinki.”

Jonghyun lifted his other hand, setting it on the hand he was already holding and squeezing tightly.

“Once you’re all fixed up, there’ll be no more jumping off buildings.”

Taemin shook his head, nose scrunched up, jaw tense.

“I had no way out; I was supposed to land on my feet.”

“Like a cat?”

“Exactly, but when I jumped someone grabbed the back of my shirt.”

“Asshole.”

“Asshole,” Taemin agreed, clearing his throat, wincing immediately.

Taemin squeezed his eyes shut tightly, a pain noise escaping his lips, but he quickly cut himself off. Jonghyun felt his heart lurch at the sound, stomach flipping upside down. Taemin exhaled shakily, regulating his expression and opening his eyes, locking them with Jonghyun again.

“I can’t remember anything after that.”

“We got lots of goodies from the raid so you didn’t get hurt for nothing,” Jonghyun said, trying to change the subject.

“Food.”

“Gold won’t help anymore.”

“Pretty.”

Jonghyun grinned. “I’ll steal you some gold bracelets from a rich ladies house.”

Taemin nodded, teeth catching his lips, biting down hard.

Outside, the chatter grew louder, indicating people had returned from their posts outside the facility.

All clear.

Jonghyun relaxed slightly, one less worry.

Taemin whined, tone high pitched. He blinked hard, a few more whines escaping his lips.

Jonghyun felt his own spine stab at his back, the pain Taemin was in impossible to replicate, but his body was trying to torture him the way Taemin’s was.

“I can’t… I can’t feel my legs, Jonghyun.”

“That’s just the numbing sensation. You were moving them, that was the first thing Jinki checked. Don’t worry, Taeminie.”

“After all this started, the riots, I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared than I am now.”

Jonghyun brought Taemin’s hand to his mouth, kissing Taemin’s fingers firmly, feeling the push against his teeth. He gently lay Taemin’s hand on his stomach so he could lie lay down, knees pressed up against Taemin’s blanket covered legs. Jonghyun nuzzled Taemin’s cheek, kissing his skin gently, laying an arm over Taemin’s chest, his touch delicate like a butterfly landing on the petal of a flower. Jonghyun pressed his forehead against Taemin’s cheek, closing his eyes as Taemin searched for his hand, squeezing tightly when he found it. Jonghyun gained relief from the pressure of the familiar touch of Taemin’s hand.

His heart felt heavy, the burning in his throat not only from the lack of water, but now also from the bile scratching at his throat. He felt sick to his stomach, guilt of not being there to protect Taemin eating away at him like a maggot.

“I’m not going anywhere," Jonghyun whispered. "Not now. Not ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this amazing idea :( then I started writing :( and it turned out bad :( I'm sorry :(


	30. Catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun catches feelings for the wrong person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to No Longer by NCT (thank you Taeil and Haechan for the blessing) so if you wanna read and listen to a song I recommend that one :)

Jonghyun watched Taemin pick up a forkful of cake, Taemin’s eyes closing as he let out a hum, lost in the taste tingling his taste buds. Taemin pressed his lips together, rubbing them slowly. Jonghyun’s shoulders drooped slightly, muscles relaxing, the black hoodie he was wearing suddenly weighing him down. He squeezed his coffee cup, palms burning from hot liquid pressed against the porcelain, but the burning helped to anchor him down to the ground, mind now only half lost in the fantasy of Taemin’s lips.

When Taemin relaxed his mouth, his tongue peaked out to gently lick his lips. The corner of his mouth remained smudged with chocolate, Jonghyun’s mouth-watering at the sight. Taemin’s eyes fluttered open, Jonghyun’s eyes dropping to Taemin’s hands, his throat tight as he watched Taemin stretch his fingers, the clatter of rings the only sound in his ears, the murmur of chatter in the coffee shop deaf.

Jonghyun parted his lips, words stuck.

He coughed hard; throat suddenly dry.

The cough was like a signal; the world began spinning.

Jonghyun heard the aimless chatter amongst the few people in the coffee shop, the regular shouts from the staff as businessman lined up for their orders. He lifted his mug of coffee, arms suddenly weak, fingers losing grip of the blue ceramic, but he recovered, Taemin too occupied with the taste of the cake to notice. His eyes watched it hover in the air for a few seconds before he brought the cup to his lips.

“I’m in love,” Jonghyun mumbled against the rim of his coffee cup.

Jonghyun focused on Tmaein, the younger boy's eyes snapping to him in an instant.

“In love?” Taemin repeated, voice slightly rough, maybe the threat of a cold on its way, the frosty winter air always attacking Jonghyun’s companion.

Jonghyun’s eyes flickered to Taemin’s face, the boy’s eyes slightly wide, exaggerating his plump face.

“I didn’t know players fell in love.”

Jonghyun smiled against his cup, setting it on the table and picking up a fork, eyes going to the chocolate fudge cake between the two of them, too afraid to keep eye contact with Taemin.

“It’s love,” Jonghyun whispered, cutting a piece of cake off and stabbing it onto his fork.

“True love?” Taemin asked, voice soft, almost hopeful, the opposite of what Jonghyun wanted.

He was sadistic. He wanted Taemin to cry. But Taemin never cried, he was too oblivious to feel the emotions wavering in the atmosphere like a ghost. Completely invisible and transparent. It wasn't Taemin's fault.

Jonghyun put the fork in his mouth, teeth grinding hard on metal as he pulled it out of his mouth, the pain almost a punishment.

Melted chocolate painted his mouth, sending his tongue into a buzzing sensation.

“Maybe,” Jonghyun said, swallowing the cake in his mouth, the sugary sweet leaving his mouth watered, wanting more.

“Will you tell me?”

Jonghyun shook his head, setting the fork on the ceramic plate, metal clinking against porcelain.

“It’s a secret, for now.”

Jonghyun’s eyes flitted to Taemin, chest warming like he was at the beach on a hot summers day, the sun heating his skin instantaneously.

Taemin was looking at him, thick lips in a pout and eyes narrowed slightly, his round face suddenly irresistible and Jonghyun had to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from pinching his chubby cheeks. The tips of his fingers tingled and Jonghyun felt electricity coursing through his veins, sparks igniting like they were splashed with water, almost an explosion.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest.”

“Will I be jealous?”

“Jealous?” Jonghyun repeated, heart stabbing against his ribcage.

The words were soft, no malice.

“No way. You’re number one.”

Taemin tutted, Jonghyun’s heart suddenly rooted to the sound of distaste, hope in front of him blossoming like a flower, but Taemin’s expression remained the same. No twinkle of hatred. No glint of jealousy. Jonghyun swallowed, throat closing from anxiety so he had to gulp hard so he didn’t choke.

“If you get a boyfriend, he’ll be your number one. If you don’t treat him right, I’ll hit you,” Taemin finally spoke, words gentle; honest.

“Hit me? Shouldn’t you hit them?”

“If you like them, they must be sweet. They wouldn’t hurt you.”

Jonghyun tasted metal as he bit hard on his cheek, but the grin on his lips appeared anyways.

“Good taste, that’s what you have, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun’s smile dropped slightly and he felt his expression soften.

“Are you afraid of them hurting you?”

Jonghyun shook his head.

“I’d offer you advice, but I’ve never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend.”

“Too in love with your work,” Jonghyun murmured, tone firm, a hint of spite mixed in.

Taemin didn’t notice. He never does.

“Love’s hard. I love Eve.”

Jonghyun snorted, suddenly relaxed. “Love with a dog is different.”

“I love you.”

Jonghyun looked at Taemin, their eyes locked, and he felt his breathing hitch, heart skip a beat. His cheeks heated up, patchy foundation hiding the blush he felt spread across the apples of his cheeks.

Maybe-

“You know, bros for life, Jonghyun. I love you so much. We're platonic soulmates forever.”

Ah. Friends.

Jonghyun nodded, pressing his hands back around his cup of coffee, needing the anchor back to reality. His stomach bubbled like a thick liquid on boil, a mixture of regret and guilt because it wasn't Taemin's fault. His skin grew colder, jaw firm as he grit his teeth hard, eyes burning. He blinked hard, sniffing softly, throat now closed off completely so he could barely breathe. His mind grew dizzy, stomach set firm. His body fell numb.

“Would they hurt you, Jonghyun? Seriously. I don't want you to be hurt.”

The burning on Jonghyun's palms suddenly stung painfully.

The electricity in his veins was cut, the main power source now beating regular as the reality hit.

“Not intentionally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It it cute, kind of, I think it's a bad piece but oh well, I tried to write a cliche :(


	31. Ripe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kibum and his friend are out shopping when destiny happens.

Kibum sighed, pushing the shopping trolley around the corner, wheels squeaking gently as they rattled against the hard floor, to the fruit and veg aisle, Taemin trailing behind him, attention always caught like a moth to a flame.

Kibum hummed to himself, the muscles in his eyes sore as they strained, searching for produce to buy. He blinked fast, stopping in front of a crate of carrots.

Taemin, Kibum presumed, set his hands on the older boy’s shoulders, squeezing gently. Kibum looked back, his face inches away from Taemin’s, the others face scrunched up into a grimace.

“What?”

“I hate carrots,” Taemin complained, sticking his tongue out. “Like devils’ food.”

“Devils food my ass,” Kibum mumbled. He lifted his hands, limbs hovering in the air for a few seconds before he picked up one carrot.

“Kibum!”

“I just remembered I’m cooking,” Kibum argued, a smirk playing on his lips. “Eat or starve.”

Kibum pulled out a plastic bag from the rollers beside the crates of veg, opening it up and placing the carrot inside before tying it at the top and tossing it into their trolley.

“How is one carrot going to change the taste?”

“Exactly, Tae, don’t be afraid of vegetables.”

Taemin tsked, dropping his hands to his sides and making a move to start walking away from Kibum.

“I’m just going to eat take out all week.”

Kibum’s smirk turned into a grin as he watched Taemin huff away like a child.

“With your money, loser,” he gently called after Taemin, a bubble of laughter erupting from his mouth when he watched Taemin pull the hood of his hoodie up, the fabric soft, bear ears sprouting from the hood. The outfit was accompanied by a pair of grey, almost pyjama, bottoms, one red trainer and the other an outrageous pink, not fashionable, but the nearest pair.

Kibum glanced at his own feet: red and pink. They should have swapped. He was also wearing grey bottoms, but these were definitely sweatpants, accompanied with an almost fluorescent orange hoodie. Comfort was the main goal when it came to shopping.

Kibum turned, eyes scanning the aisle of fruit and veg, before he pushed the trolley and, like a turtle, made his way to the fruit section.

The supermarket was empty save for a few teenagers dossing about in the aisles and it was eerily quiet, the radio above a dull drone of generic pop music that was far too obscure for Kibum to hum along to.

It was past midnight, the twenty-four-hour convenience not to be taken literally, but Kibum and Taemin’s schedules were always off.

Dancers never had a break so midnight food adventures usually turned into two in the morning batch making.

Well, for Kibum it did, Kibum took after Jonghyun, Taemin’s boyfriend, and never slept whilst Taemin usually passed out as soon as they got home, the week leading up to today, Friday, or Saturday morning, always suddenly tearing away at his muscles until he was collapsed in a heap on the couch, Kibum never moving him because his own arms refused to move.

Kibum usually called Jonghyun for someone to talk to. Jonghyun lived seven or so hours away, his choice of moving away to pursue music putting a dampening on his and Taemin’s relationship for a good year until one drunken night before Jonghyun left the city flicked the switch of love back on.

They were soulmates. Literally. The marks on their wrists proved it.

_Hey pretty, where’s your boyfriend?_

_Dead, like you will be if I_

The words were cut off on Jonghyun wrist, Kibum discovering it was because that was all Taemin got to say before he threw up all over Jonghyun’s shoes. Teenage romance mixed with illegal drinking. A cocktail that shouldn’t work, but for them: did.

Kibum glanced back.

Taemin was busy eyeing up the fruit boxes, hands rubbing his empty pockets.

Kibum slyly set the carrot back in a crate before he stopped at the watermelons, eyes searching for one that took his fancy.

His own wrist was always covered by a sweatband, Kibum not wanting to test fate in case a girl fell to his feet. He wasn’t against woman, just against being in love with one and although society still frowned at gay couples, soulmates were a different story. You choose someone other than your soulmate and your finished. Sad really, but society always was.

Kibum let go of the shopping trolley and picked up a watermelon, bouncing it slightly, testing its weight.

He had boyfriends, most people did, they just broke it off when their soulmate came around. Kibum didn’t mind finding his soulmate. If they fell in love, they fell in love, if not, then he wasn’t going to live a life of sadness. He’d rather be alone. Like Jinki.

Jinki was happy, always grinning, face shining bright like the sun, though his soulmate had an accident, so it was a completely different situation, but he was happy being alone.

Kibum could learn to be alone too and if not he and Jinki could just get married.

Laughter tickled Kibum’s throat again at the thought. Taemin would be outrageously jealous.

“Knock it to see if it’s ripe.”

Kibum flinched, thoughts turning thick like mud, suddenly immovable until his mind went blank.

His wrist burned like coal in a fire.

The words.

He daren’t lift his gaze so his eyes went to his ‘soulmates’ feet.

Football boots, covered in mud, white socks cutting off at the others calf’s stained green.

Kibum felt his chest tighten.

He’d bagged a footballer? Luck of the drawer.

Wait.

A gruff voice? A footballer?

Kibum’s eyes flickered to the others legs.

Tanned.

He looked up, eyes widening, lips numbing.

“Choi Minho, you’re my soulmate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that’s a wrap folks :) thank you for reading. I wrote every story on the day in an hour or less so they’re not re-drafted which is why they’re kinda good but kinda bad. I’m glad you liked them. Maybe I’ll expand on them one day but for now writers block is eating away at me. Bye <3


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